


Freelance Good Guys: Body-Hopping

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [14]
Category: Freelance Good Guys, Looming Gaia
Genre: Abuse, Adventure, Alcohol, Body Horror, Bodyswap, Elves, Fantasy, LGBTQ Themes, Magic, Slavery, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: Jeimos has a sensitive problem. They seek the help of a dodgy Seelie wizard and get equally dodgy results.





	1. Wizurd

**Author's Note:**

> This story can be read on its own, but it will make a lot more sense if you've read the rest of the Freelance Good Guys series. Please heed the tags for content warnings.
> 
> For concept art, discussions, and more about the Looming Gaia series, check out the blog here: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost

##  **[CHAPTER 1: WIZURD]**

 

     _LATE SUMMER, 6005_

 

     Evan heard a knock on his office door. Soft, insecure, barely audible.

 

     “Come in,” he called, pen still scratching against the parchment before him. The door opened just a crack. Two flame-orange eyes peeked through like cinders in the darkness. Cautiously Jeimos crept in and closed the door softly behind them.

 

     “Mr. Atlas,” they began, “I know it’s early and I do apologize. But I must speak with you as soon as possible. I can take this no more!”

Finally Evan looked up from his desk. The elf stared back at him through anxious eyes, gloved fingers wringing themselves into knots. The captain gestured towards the chair opposite to him. “Have a seat,” he said.

 

     The elf rounded the chair, nearly tripped over the legs before they sat down. Evan pushed his pen and paper aside, then clasped his fingers before him. Jeimos’ hands trembled in their lap. When they tried to speak, only gibberish passed their lips.

 

     “Breathe, Jeimos,” said Evan.

 

     With a nod, Jeimos inhaled deeply through their nose. They let the air out slowly, closing their eyes for a brief moment to gather their thoughts. Evan waited. Finally they opened their eyes and told him, “I need to go to Umory-Ond.”

The captain quirked an eyebrow. “Umory-Ond? And what business do you have over _there_?”

 

     Jeimos’ long fingers were so knotted, they struggled to untangle them as they replied, “It’s, er…for a procedure. I’ve been planning this for years and now I finally have the gold. So I’m going to do it. I _must_.”

“A procedure,” Evan repeated. He rested his chin upon his hands. “May I ask the nature of it? Is it medical, or…?”

 

     Shifting uncomfortably, Jeimos refused to meet his eyes. They told him, “It’s rather private. I’d rather not say. But I’ve made contact with someone in the Seelie Court who can do it for a reasonable price. They’re unwilling to come to me, so I must go to them.”

 

     Evan furrowed his brow just slightly. He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “This must be very important to you if you’re willing to travel so far. To the Land of Lunacy, no less!” Evan paused. He lowered his hands to the desk, brows arching. “This problem of yours—it isn’t life-threatening, is it?”

 

     Jeimos hesitated, mouth hanging open as their words crept out like meandering worms. “I, eeehh…Well, it’s…It surely _could_ be,” they decided. “I daresay if I don’t address it soon, it will be the end of me. I cannot explain, but you must believe me! I’ve been in pain for so long. I can’t bear to even _think_ about suffering another long century!”

 

     They pointed to the large map behind Evan, nailed to the wall with little pins stuck in various places. There wasn’t a single pin stuck on the continent of Umory-Ond. “This person is a professional. They can help me,” they explained. “They can take the pain away and make me well for the first time in my life. I beg you, you must help me meet them!”

 

     “Jeimos,” Evan sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Umory-Ond is…Well, it’s not a safe place. It’s a very alien, very unstable land in the midst of war. Commoners are not welcome, period, and gaians are barely tolerated.”

“But I’m fae,” argued Jeimos.

 

     Evan continued, “You, Linde, and Skel. You three are the _only_ fae on this crew.” He let out another sigh, shaking his head as he added, “I’ll approve the trip, but only if Linde and Skel go with you. I cannot in good conscious send you to such a dangerous place alone.”

 

     Jeimos’ expression fell. They leaned forward, whined, “Mr. Atlas, please! This is a very private matter! I’d rather keep it between you and I, if you don’t mind?”

“I do mind,” Evan told them flatly. “Those are my conditions. See if those two are willing to accompany you, then get back to me and I’ll cover transportation. Sound fair?”

 

     Rising to their feet, Jeimos grumbled, “No. But I suppose I have no choice, do I?”

 

*

 

     The massive dragon glided through the sky as swiftly as a bird. Jeimos looked over the side of its gazebo, saw only miles of sea all around. All except the southeastern horizon, where they could see nothing beyond the thick, swirling mist. Umory-Ond lie somewhere within.

 

     Jeimos’ nerve was slipping through their fingers. They took a deep breath and sat down in their seat between Linde and Skel. The gazebo held a dozen weary passengers and one wailing baby. They had travelled for 14 hours so far with just 1 left to go. The pilot, saddled upon the dragon’s long neck, spent this last hour slowly meandering through the fog.

 

     They spotted a red flame in the sky. There was a second beyond it, then a third—great fiery pillars guiding the dragon towards the landing port.

 

     At last, the beast touched solid ground and Jeimos nearly collapsed with relief. Their muscles were sore, legs rubbery as they staggered down the ramp.

 

     They carried a single pack on their shoulder, just enough supplies for a day or two. They spotted mule-drawn carriages lined up at the edge of the port. Together with Linde and Skel, Jeimos hired one and passed a slip of paper to the elven driver.

 

     “We’re trying to get to this inn,” Jeimos told her.

The driver squinted at the paper through the fog. All around them was a world of shifting white vapor. The mercenaries swore they saw faces in the fog.

 

     Then she passed it back and grunted, “Aye, I know where that is. Forty and five minutes, at most.” With that, she whipped the reigns and the mules plodded forth down the misty dirt trail.

 

     Jeimos reclined back and rested their head upon their bag, letting out a long, quivering sigh. Linde and Skel sat beside them under the cart’s leather cover.

 

     “Thanks again for coming with me, you two,” said Jeimos. “I’m sorry about all this.”

Linde grinned and said, “Don’t be sorry. I’m really excited! My mother’s family was Seelie, so who knows? Maybe I’ll meet a cousin or something.”

 

     “Well I, for one, accept your apology,” said Skel. He adjusted the lens strapped over his eye, then crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Every minute I’m here is a minute I’m losing money.”

Linde slapped his arm and hissed, “Don’t be a jackass! Jay wouldn’t come all the way here if it wasn’t important.” She turned to the red elf and queried, “Who is this person you’re meeting anyway?”

 

     “Er,” Jeimos hesitated, clearing their throat, “they're a wizard. A very powerful one, from what I understand. They're going to help me with my, er…Problem.”

 

     “It can’t be _that_ important if you won’t even say what it is,” grumbled Skel. Linde raised her hand threateningly, fingers glowing icy-blue. Skel shrank back, raised his palms and added, “I’m just saying! If I’m going to fly across the globe to a volatile kingdom, is it so unreasonable to know why?”

 

     “It’s none of our business, Skel,” Linde growled through her teeth. She tipped her head towards Jeimos lying before them. “We’re here to keep Jay safe and that’s all. If you don’t want to be here, then why did you agree to come in the first place?”

The goblin argued, “Well, I _assumed_ I’d get an explanation at some point! That it was a matter of utmost importance! But as far as I can tell, we’ve just been dragged on some pointless little vacation.”

 

     He addressed Jeimos when he added, “It’s pretty rotten to write off leisure time as a business expense.”

“This is _not_ for leisure,” groaned Jeimos, dragging their gloved palms down their face. “You’ll just have to trust me, Skel. Or better yet, hop off this carriage and go home! I don’t need either of you to babysit me, despite what Mr. Atlas thinks.”

 

     “ _I_ know that,” Linde assured them, offering a smile. “Don’t listen to Skel. He shits from his mouth and talks from his ass. Whatever business you have here, I’m behind you one hundred percent.”

Jeimos swallowed the lump creeping up their throat. “Thank you, Linde. It won’t take long anyway. We should all be home by tomorrow night.”

 

     Before long, the fog began to dissipate. The trio looked up, marveled at the rose gold sky above. The clouds were smeared like watercolors, bleeding into eachother as they shimmered in the sun’s rays. Around them was a vast field of wild wheat that swayed in the breeze.

 

     Jeimos pulled the map from their pocket and carefully unfolded it. They were on the aptly-named island of Wheatfield. The great arching bridges to the west led to Umory-Ond’s mainland. But the carriage was headed south, straight for the Seelie Capital piercing through the horizon.

 

     Its great, long spires tapered as thin as needles into the sky. The Bright Castle towered above all, white and gold and gleaming. The city below was a maze of rounded, smooth structures built from stone. Vines snaked over every surface, dotted with big, colorful blooms. The pristine cobblestone streets were lined with gardens, lush and colorful, all alive with butterflies.

 

     Jeimos’ eyes rounded when they peeked out from the carriage. “Why, it’s as grand as Matuzu Capital!” they exclaimed. Was this really the “Savage Land of Lunacy” people muttered about? The streets were bustling with elves, sprights, pixies—all manner of magical peoples. There wasn't a commoner in sight.

 

     Jeimos, Linde, and Skel were left speechless for the rest of the trip. They were too busy marveling at the alien city, hardly noticed they stopped until the carriage driver loudly demanded her pay. Cautiously, the trio gathered their bags and made their way inside the Bright Avenue Inn.

 

     No matter where they were, inns were always inns. This one was much like all the others Jeimos slept in during their travels. The trio climbed a spiraling staircase to their room, a tiny space with two cots and a single table between them. Above the table was a circular window, the outside of the glass obscured by creeping vines.

 

     “This is it? This room’s barely fit for a dog! And didn’t we ask for _three_ beds?” grumbled Skel. Jeimos fished through their bag until they found a wrinkled piece of paper. An address and a crude map were scrawled on it.

“Perhaps we won’t have to stay here,” they said. “It’s still early. If I can find this wizard now, we may be able to catch a flight back home before dark.”

 

     “Jay,” Linde began gently, “don’t take this the wrong way, but…You don’t look well. I think you should rest your nerves first.”

The red elf shook their head. “I’ve never had a minute of rest in my life. Not while I suffer like this. The sooner I have this done, the sooner I can have peace.”

 

     They left their bag on the cot and stuffed the paper back in their pocket. Heading for the door, they said, “Just wait here for me. I’ll be back soon.”

 

     Just as they opened the door, Linde shot up and pushed it closed. “You’re not going out there alone!” she said. “Just let us get something to eat first and we’ll come with you.”

“There is no need. I don’t want your company,” Jeimos told her, opening the door once more. They began moving the hall, Linde and Skel on their heels.

 

     “Atlas specifically told us not to let you out of our sights,” Skel told them. “If you get killed or turned into a frog or whatever, it’s our jobs on the line! Would you just be patient and give us a break for gods’ sakes?”

 

     Jeimos stopped in the middle of the hall, turned to face them both. Their voice was sharp with frustration as they said, “My whole life has been a trial of patience since fifty-nine thirty! I don’t care what Mr. Atlas says—he’s a simple young man from a simple young land. He’s not as clever as he thinks he is. So please, leave me to tend to my very private matter _alone_. I’ve burdened you enough as it is.”

 

     With that, they raised their glowing hands and shocked the air with a clap. Linde and Skel reeled back, shielding their eyes from the explosion of light. It fizzled away in a rain of shimmering particles and left nothing behind. Jeimos had disappeared.

 

     “Damn it!” growled Skel, throwing his bag to the ground. “I knew they’d pull some nonsense! This whole stupid trip was a sham, Linde!”

Linde adjusted her wide-brimmed witch's hat with a calm sigh. She replied, “Either way, we have a job to do.”

 

     “And are we getting _paid_ for this job? No!”

“Will you stop griping on your own, or do I have to freeze your mouth shut?” Linde threatened the goblin with her frosty touch once more. With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Skel trailed her back down the winding stairs.

 

*

 

     Outside, Jeimos was already ten blocks away and getting ever closer to the place on their map. They stuck out like a sore thumb on these streets, a red elf dressed in black from head to toe. It seemed black wasn’t in fashion here in the Seelie Court. Sheepishly they passed by all the scrutinizing fae in their fancy garments of white and gold, green and silver, the bright tones of their pristine environment.

 

     Some hissed and spat at Jeimos as they passed. Someone shouted, “Go die in the Badlands, Unseelie filth!” and in that moment, the elf understood their transgression.

 

     In their homeland of Damijana, black was a sacred color. It was the coal and grime that coated their ancestors from the inside out, back in the times of Zareen enslavement. Wearing black honored Damijana’s humble past.

 

     But here in Wheatfield, black resembled the flag of the Seelie’s greatest enemy: the Unseelie in the southern Badlands. Jeimos realized they’d made a big mistake, and now they were too far from the inn to fix it. They hurried on down the sidewalk, endured the hissing and foul name-calling, shielded their head when a rock was cast towards them.

 

     The sidewalk was deteriorating as they moved forward. So too were the great white and gold buildings, until Jeimos found themselves squelching through muddy, narrow pathways between slapdash wooden shacks. They wrinkled their nose at the stench. Perhaps it wasn’t mud.

 

     Underfed pigs ran freely to and fro, rooting through half-gnawed corpses and piles of rotting compost. No longer was Jeimos surrounded by the smooth, flawless faces of fae. Instead they looked upon crooked faces plagued with warts and creases, yellowed teeth exposed and stark against sickly green skin.

 

     These people were short and frog-like, many humpbacked and bowlegged. They were misshapen in every way imaginable. _Kobolds_ , Jeimos quickly realized. They had stumbled into a reeking, fetid kobold slum. They stopped and looked at their map once more, checking twice and then thrice that they were on the right path.

 

     What would a powerful wizard be doing in a place like this? Jeimos furrowed their red brows at the paper, squeezing the edges as if to squeeze out the answers. Something wasn’t adding up. They were torn from their thoughts as a pig pulled at their long, black coat.

 

     Jeimos cried out and kicked at the bristly beast. It let out a low squeal as it ripped their pocket off. A sack of almonds spilled in the mud and the pig wasted no time lapping it up, sack and all. Jeimos turned and fled, nearly tripped over an unattended baby in the middle of the street.

 

     If the map was right—and they had their doubts—then the wizard should have been right in front of them. They stopped before a wooden shack. Painted in crude lettering above the door, it read, “toJUM tHE WizurD”. Jeimos glanced at their paper one last time. The name matched, mostly.

 

     After a moment’s hesitation, they knocked on the door. They felt dozens of eyes boring into the back of their head, curious and thieving kobolds stalking them from the alleys. The door opened with a creak. There stood another kobold no different from the rest.

 

     His face was frog-like and peppered with warts, body draped in rags. A tuft of greasy brown hair topped his head, sticking out every which way. One arm was significantly smaller than the other, and one leg seemed to be shorter.

 

     The kobold took one look at Jeimos and his expression soured. Suddenly he slammed the door in the elf’s face and shouted from behind it, “No Unseelie! Bad bad bad! Go backs to Badlands, not wants here!”

 

     “Wait!” Jeimos pressed their palms against the door, leaned in close to speak through its shoddy gaps. “I’m not Unseelie, I’m Damijani! M-my name is Jeimos. I’m here for the, um…Transmutation?” They spoke the word quietly, eyes shifting side to side.

 

     They nearly toppled forward when the door swung open again. This time the kobold greeted them with a big, yellow smile. “Oh! Tojum knows ye! Comes in, fastly,” he said, pulling Jeimos by the sleeve of their coat. The elf stumbled through the doorway, heard the door slam behind them.

 

     They found themselves in a dim, dusty room, standing on a makeshift carpet of rotting linens. The desk to their right was piled with brown apple cores and books. The chairs to their left were occupied by soiled dishes and more books. The walls wriggled with roach activity.

 

     Jeimos swiped at a fly and folded their hands tightly around themselves. The stench in this room was somehow worse than the stench outside. They held their breath as Tojum the (alleged) Wizard rooted through his piles of junk.

 

     The kobold said, “Tojum can helps ye with problem. Easy, easy, very easy! Just needs to find sigil…Arounds here somewheres…Has to hides from pigs, see…”

 

     “A sigil,” repeated Jeimos. “So you’re truly familiar with transmutation magic?”

Tojum tossed a book aside and replied enthusiastically, “Of course! Tojum practice tranfutashum whole life! Not dumb like other kobolds.” He tapped his crooked finger against the side of his head.

 

     “Ah, finds it,” he said, raising a gleaming amulet above his head. It was suspended on a leather cord, a crystal pendant the size of a man’s fist. Engraved in its flat surface was a complex sigil. The object was pulsing with magical energy. Jeimos could feel its frequencies buzzing in their teeth.

 

     Tojum grinned. “See? Tojum gots very powerful sigil. Tojum good wizard.” He set the amulet beside the hoard of apple cores and explained, “But before Tojum changes ye, takes off clothes and tells Tojum how ye wants to be changed.”

 

     Jeimos blinked, left speechless. So this was it. Seven long, grueling decades of suffering was coming to an end today. From this point forward they would know what it meant to be comfortable in their own skin. They could endure this last stretch of shame if only to spare themselves another century of it.

 

     Jeimos shrugged off their coat and folded it. They looked around, found no sanitary surfaces to leave it. With a defeated sigh, they simply tossed it over the mountain of dirty dishes. Tojum stood before them and watched, scratching his triple-chin with his overgrown nails as their shirt, undershirt, robe, gloves, stockings, and boots were stripped away.

 

     “Underwears too,” the kobold told them. “Alls of it! Needs to see whole body to finds what’s wrong.”

Jeimos let out another sigh, swallowed back their pride and cast the last of their garments aside. They were left bare, exposed, likely open to a thousand diseases and parasites swarming the ground at their feet.

 

     But it would all be worth it, they told themselves. Soon they would no longer have to drown themselves in oversized robes, make themselves shapeless to conceal the form beneath.

 

     Tojum slowly circled around them, looking them up and down. After a moment he glanced up at their face with rounded yellow eyes, brows arched like the western bridges.

 

     “Ye wants change this?” he queried. “Ye looks perfect to Tojum! Jeimos has shape Tojum always wants—would kills little babies for! What’s wrong with body? Where is ugly part?” He looked them over once more, lifting their arms and turning them all around.

 

     “It’s not that it’s _ugly_ ,” explained Jeimos. “It just isn’t _mine_. When I imagine myself, I see someone less shapely, more masculine.” They frowned. “So imagine my distress when I look in the mirror and someone else looks back at me. I can’t face this stranger any longer, Mr. Tojum.”

 

     The kobold scratched at his chin once more. “Ye wants trade female body for male body,” he said flatly.

“Yes!” the elf nearly sobbed. “Please tell me it’s possible!”

“Aye! Very possible!” Tojum suddenly perked up, a wide grin stretching across his frog-face. He swiped the amulet off the table and handed it to Jeimos.

 

     “Puts clothes back on and wear sigil arounds ye neck,” he explained. “Tojum cast fancy spell, then ye has exactly what ye wants fastly!”

His smile was contagious, spreading to Jeimos’ lips. Quickly they scrambled to dress and looped the leather cord around their neck. “Thank you, Mr. Tojum, thank you so much! I’m so very grateful! Shall I pay you now, or—”

 

     “No, no, no! Keep golds in pocket,” the kobold told them. “Now don’t moves! Tojum charges sigil.”

 

     Jeimos held their breath, kept still as a corpse while Tojum raised his glowing hands. The engravings on the amulet’s crystal face lit up, magic thrumming through the room like the quivering strings of a lute. Jeimos’ skin began to tingle. Their head buzzed and their vision blurred, brightened, everything fading to white.

 

     What began as simple warmth grew to intense pain in their gut. Jeimos doubled over with a groan, gnashing their teeth as the pain spread through their limbs. It consumed their whole body along with the blinding light. The voices and squeals outside faded away. They heard a strong wind in their ears, felt nothing but crippling pain.

 

     And then in an instant, it was over.

 

     Jeimos opened their eyes. They shook their head and blinked the dizzying blur away. They realized they were lying on the filthy floor and scrambled back to their feet. But their feet seemed unusually clumsy and they fell back on their rear. Before them were two sets of sickly green toes with overgrown nails, both soles wrapped in strips of linen.

 

     Utterly confused, Jeimos looked down at their hands. Sickly green. Wrinkled and scarred with gnarled fingers. The horror was brewing within them. It was slowly coming together. And when they turned around, they let out a shriek as their suspicions became a reality.

 

     It was their body. Or what _used_ to be their body, looking back at them with a wide, devilish grin and eyes that somehow were not their own. Not-Jeimos wrenched the amulet off their neck and cast it across the room. They threw their head back and cackled victoriously, “It worked! Tojum dids it! Finally, finally, finally Tojum dids it!”

 

     Jeimos tried to stand once more, wobbling in Tojum’s misshapen vessel. “W-what have you done?” they crowed. “This isn’t what I want! Not at all! Please, you must reverse this at once!”

“But _is_ what ye wants! Ye wants unpretty male body, Tojum wants pretty female body. Everyone happy!” exclaimed Not-Jeimos.

 

     “No! You’re wrong! I-I just wanted to _change_ my body, not throw it away!”

“Ye doesn’t throw it away,” Not-Jeimos told them, running their hands over their new-old curves. “Ye gives to Tojum! Tojum means…You gives to _Jeimos_. Jeimos happy forever!”

 

     “You are not Jeimos! _I’m_ Jeimos!” the elf-now-kobold snarled, fists trembling at their sides. “Give my body back to me _now_!”

 

     Not-Jeimos looked down at their glowing gloved hands with wonder. They jumped when a flame sparked to life between their palms. “Jeimos pretty _and_ powerful!” they gasped. “Old-Jeimos made stupid trade. Dumb like kobold, makes good kobold! Jeimos very happy, will live good life now!”

 

     “You cretin! Fix this at once!” Jeimos screeched as they lunged forth. Before they made contact, Not-Jeimos clapped their hands and disappeared in an explosion of light. Jeimos toppled against the mountain of apple cores, spilling them all over the floor.

 

     They wrenched the door open and looked all around. The elf-bodied kobold was nowhere to be seen. Jeimos stumbled back inside and threw themselves at a mountain of junk. They dug through it madly, throwing books and garbage all around until they found the discarded amulet. If they wanted their body back, they had a feeling they’d need it.

 

     Slipping it around their fat neck, the kobold rushed out of the shack. They tried to run, but they could only hobble on their uneven legs. They felt constant pain in places they never knew existed. Their skin was dry and itchy. Their eyes stung. Their teeth ached. Their stomach burned.

 

     Is this what it felt like to be a kobold? No wonder Tojum was so eager to trade, they thought. But he still had no right to their body! No matter how much Jeimos loathed it, it still belonged to them. They had to find that thieving wizard and get it back before it was too late.

 

     When Jeimos tried to leave the kobold slum, they didn’t get very far. An elven patrolman roughly ushered them back to the muddy streets and barked, “Still three hours ‘till sundown, frogface! Don’t think ye can sneak passed me!”

 

     Jeimos protested as the patrolman pushed them along with his bone staff, “W-wait! Please, I’ve been victimized! Some shifty wizard stole my body! I-I’m not really a kobold!”

 

     They saw the patrolman’s eyes roll behind his pointed white helmet. “As if I haven’t heard _that_ one before…” he chuckled. Then he kicked Jeimos to the ground and added, “Yer not special. Come out after dark with the rest of yer kin.”

 

     “But I need to find my body!” Jeimos cried in a croaking voice that was not their own. “Who knows what that evil little hoodlum is doing to it? You’re a lawman, can’t you help me? Don’t you care?”

“I serve Queen Titania’s people,” the patrolman explained. “She has vocally forsaken yer kind, so no, I really couldn’t care less about yer ridiculous little problems.”

 

     With a scowl, he jabbed Jeimos’ chest with the end of his staff and added, “Assuming those problems even exist. Ye folks tell more lies than the commoners do. Now stay in yer district, and if I catch ye outside again I’ll pin ye to the road and let the hogs do what they will.”

 

     With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. His white scaled armor crunched with every step, golden accents gleaming in the last rays of daylight. Jeimos trudged off down the filthy, forsaken road and plopped down beside a stack of broken barrels. They waited there for what felt like forever, sobbing and sulking into their unfamiliar hands as it began to rain.

 

*

 

     Linde and Skel scoured the streets for their friend. It shouldn’t have been hard to find a towering red elf all clad in black—yet the last several hours had yielded nothing.

 

     “Jeimos must be the only red elf in the whole damned city,” said Skel. “How could they just disappear? Idiot probably got themselves kidnapped…”

Linde finished the last of her kebab and jabbed his belly with the stick. “Don’t even say that!” she scolded him. “They just don’t want to be found.”

 

     The two stood under the awning of a tower all choked with vines. A light rain had begun to fall and the Seelie citizens took cover indoors. After a moment of thought, Skel said, “They’re acting awful shady, so it’s safe to say they’re _up to_ something shady. Where do—”

 

     “A brothel,” Linde said flatly. She held her hat steady against the wind, blue dress billowing around her knees as they stepped back onto the street. Skel followed and shielded his eye-lens with his hand.

 

     The two asked a snickering spright for directions, and within minutes they were passing through the doors of the city’s busiest den of ill repute. The air wasn’t hazy with smoke like the brothels the mercenaries were used to. But the pungent stench of alcohol was almost overbearing, sharp and spicy unlike any alcohol found back home.

 

     The place wasn’t a shoddy dive as they expected. It was clean and bright with healthy plants creeping up its pillars from the floor of moss. Each round table was draped with gold cloth. Linde and Skel looked to their right and saw a grand stage all adorned with emerald-green curtains. There danced four green elves wearing little more than strings as patrons cheered them on.

 

     The mercenaries made their way through the bustling room, where drunken patrons sipped faery wine from crystal goblets and gambled away heavy piles of coin. More elven dancers charmed clients from atop the tables. One of them stole Skel’s gaze just a bit too long, and the goblin crashed into a kobold slave.

 

     Both of them went toppling, the goblets on the kobold’s tray spilling on a furious patron. The patron stood up, a gray-skinned drau with long ivory hair. His kind were elfish monsters, tall and slender in structure. He thrusted a clawed finger towards the kobold. “Ye clumsy, hideous abomination! Look what ye’ve done to my best coat!” he bellowed.

 

     Skel scrambled away as the drau delivered kick after kick to the flailing kobold. He joined Linde’s side, the two of them cringing at the kobold’s howls and the other patrons’ laughter.

 

     Linde’s gut twisted. She could watch this no more. Stepping towards the drau, she shoved him back and growled, “That’s enough! It was an accident and you know it. Leave that poor little guy alone!”

 

     The drau turned to her. His violet eyes gleamed, white teeth stark against his black lips when he said, “Who are ye to defend a worthless kobold? Did ye, perhaps, used to be one yerself?” His tone was dark and threatening, but Linde didn’t understand the threat.

 

     “I don’t know what you’re yammering about,” she told him, then pointed to the kobold behind him who was struggling to clean up the mess. “But if I catch you mistreating them again, I’ll mistreat _you_. You better watch yourself, mister.”

“Linde—” Skel hissed in her ear. She simply shoved him away and glared hard into the drau’s eyes.

 

     The drau met her glare for a long moment, then let out a slow chuckle. She gasped when he suddenly pushed her against Skel. The two fell to the floor in a heap. “Ye test me, body-hopper. I know what ye are. Cretins like ye disgust me!”

 

     The drau raised his booted foot. Just before he could bring it down on Linde’s head, he yelped as his feet lifted off the ground. He hovered a foot or two in the air, then tumbled forward and then fell on his face with a loud thump. The surrounding patrons broke out into giggles and enthused shouts.

 

     Linde glanced at Skel, sitting on the floor behind her. He had the first two fingers of each hand pressed against his temples. The mercenaries quickly rose to their feet as the drau swiped at his face. Inky black blood smeared across his palm, leaking from his crooked nose.

 

     He looked up at the mercenaries. His teeth were bared, lip split and bleeding. “That’s it! I’ll see ye rot!” he snarled. He reached for a wooden wand holstered at his waist. Linde drew faster, plucking her own wand from the cleavage of her dress and blasting him with a beam of frosty magic.

 

     The drau’s fingers froze stiff, his skin coated in a spiky layer of ice. He clutched his wrist in his other hand, shouting something unintelligible as Linde seized Skel’s hand and bolted out of the brothel.

 

     The rain was pouring now, dark clouds speeding through the sky above. The mercenaries stopped briefly outside the brothel, deciding where to go. Then the door flew open and the drau stepped out. “Filthy kobold wench! I’ll kill ye, raise yer bloated corpse, and kill ye again!” he screamed, clutching his wand in his unfrozen hand.

 

     Skel pushed him with a telekinetic shove. The drau staggered and his back hit the side of the building. As he stepped forward once more, Linde tossed a beam of ice at his feet. The wet sidewalk froze immediately and he slipped upon the glistening patch. They heard him cry out when he went down. Then several other patrons cried out as they came out to watch the fight and instead, joined him on the ground.

 

     But there would be no fight, for Linde and Skel had already fled through an alleyway onto the next block. They took cover behind a leafy bush to catch their breath.

 

     “Do you always have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?” hissed Skel.

“He was beating that poor kobold to death!” Linde argued.

“Sounds like his problem, not ours.”

“Are you sure you’re a Good Guy, Skel?”

“Not off the clock, I’m not!”

 

     The elfenne kicked a puddle, soaking the front of Skel’s orange robes. “You don’t care about anyone except yourself!” she said, pointing an accusatory finger. “This whole time, you’ve been more worried about your damn paycheck than finding Jeimos!”

 

     Skel kicked water right back at her and argued, “My paycheck is more helpful and reliable than Jeimos will ever be! Look at us, Linde! We’re thousands of miles from home, bickering in the pouring rain like fools all because that thoughtless elf wanted to scam their way out of work! I have half a mind to leave you both here and tell Mr. Atlas you defected!”

 

     Linde seized the goblin’s wrist, squeezing until he winced. “We are a team,” she told him slowly. “I don’t care if it takes all night— _we_ will find Jeimos and _we_ will get to the bottom of this.”

Jerking his wrist from her grip, Skel grumbled, “Well, they weren’t at the brothel. That’s one out of a few thousand locations we can check off, isn’t it?”

 

     “We’ve been going about this all wrong,” said Linde. “Didn’t they say they were going to see a wizard? Why don’t we ask around one of the arcane schools?”

Skel looked up at the late evening sky. “Surely they’re not in session this late…”

 

     “With all these nocturnal drau around, you’d be surprised.” Linde rolled her eyes and grabbed his sleeve, began dragging him down the street. “Mother told me the Seelie Court never sleeps. When all the other folks lie down for the night, the drau crawl out of the Underground and run the streets of Topside.”

 

     Skel blinked. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

“It means that jackass back at the brothel might show up with some buddies, so let’s hurry and find the college.”

 


	2. White Statue

##  **[CHAPTER 2: WHITE STATUE]**

 

     Between the time and the rain, the Seelie Court’s elves and sprights had completely disappeared from the streets. As they made their way to the arcane college, Linde and Skel noticed a sea of new faces washing in. Drau stepped out from their tunnel districts, shielded themselves from the rain with ornate umbrellas. Their violet eyes were like dancing lights in the mist. They wore elegant, flowing garments not unlike the elves.

 

     Then there were the kobolds, who cautiously crept out of their slum. Some held trash can lids and pieces of wood over their heads to stay dry. Others simply trudged through the rain with nothing but the rags on their humpbacks. Skel groaned and averted his eyes when he saw a kobold strip down and begin bathing himself in a mud puddle.

 

     “Gods, where’s the circus?” he grumbled. Linde opened her mouth to yell at him. Then she thought better of it and simply slapped his wet mouth with her magical touch. She walked on, listening to Skel’s muffled shouts behind lips frozen shut.

 

     To a passing kobold, Linde asked, “Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the arcane college?”

The kobold flinched at first, as if she expected to be slapped. Then her uneven shoulders relaxed and she pointed down the street. “Aye,” she replied. “Go straight, then straight, then straight and turns away from moon. Then go straight, then straight, and sees fountain. If sees fountain, ye sees college.”

 

     Linde smiled. “And there are wizards there, right?”

“Aye, good wizards. Best wizards!” said the kobold. “But bright folks only in sun hours. Night folks at moon hours.”

“I see. Thank you.” Linde turned back to Skel, still clawing at the frost on his mouth. “Come on, Skel! We got a trail!”

A sigh gusted through the goblin’s long nose as he followed her down the way.

 

     They went straight passed 3 blocks and then turned away from the moon. After 2 more blocks, they spotted a babbling fountain in the courtyard of a tall dome-shaped building. Rain cascaded down its stained glass windows. Drau passed in and out through the great double doors where two elven guards stood watch.

 

     When Linde and Skel tried to walk inside, the guards crossed their staffs and blocked the way. “Stop right there,” said the one to the left. “We’ll need to see some written authorization.”

 

     Linde quirked a white eyebrow. “Oh, we’re not attending classes. We just wanted to speak with a wizard for—”

“Doesn’t matter,” said the guard. “We had a serious theft recently and we’re not taking any chances. Nobody goes in or out without permission from a college authority.”

 

     “Speaking of,” began the second guard. She pulled a slip of paper from her back pocket and unfolded it, showing it to the mercenaries. On it was a sketch of a necklace, its large round pendant engraved with intricate designs. “Have ye seen this amulet? There is a two thousand GP reward for its return.”

 

     Skel’s eyes bugged. He winced as he pulled his frosty lips apart, his breath finally melting the crystals. Leaning towards Linde, he spoke in her ear, “Let’s stop wasting time on Jeimos and find _that_ thing! Two thousand GP, Linde! That’s like ten contracts at once!”

 

     He backed off as the elfenne lifted a threatening palm at him. Then she turned to the guards and said, “Sorry, haven’t seen anything like that. But have _you_ guys seen a red elf around here today?”

 

     The guard folded the paper and tucked it back in her pocket. She looked at the guard to her left, who shook his head. “No,” she replied, “I’ve personally never seen a red elf in my life. I thought they were all trapped in the Gray Kingdom up north.”

Linde shrugged. “Well, this one got out. And now they’re running around the city, probably get—” She shook her head. “Nevermind. Thanks anyway.”

 

     The mercenaries headed back down the stone steps, out of the safety of the awning where rain pelted them once again. The sound was nearly deafening against the streets. Skel’s long ears twitched, having picked out faint voices over the weather’s roar. He seized Linde’s arm and stopped in the middle of the walkway, listening closely.

 

     “What?” queried Linde.

“Shh!” Skel hushed her and listened for a moment more. Then she yelped as he took off running, dragging her further down the street. He took a sharp turn into an alleyway. His poor goblin eyes couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, but his ears recognized Jeimos’ voice when they heard it.

 

     Now even Linde could hear it. They were wailing as if in pain. She gasped, “That has to be Jay!” and went sprinting down the narrow alley. The ground was dry, awnings above shielding it from the rain.

 

     “Linde!” Skel called from behind, clumsily scrambling forth. He tripped over barrels and loose bricks while ahead, Linde stared down two shadowy figures. Her pink elven eyes glowed in the darkness, and so too did the figures’ eyes as they stared back: violet and orange.

 

     There was Jeimos—so she believed—bent over a barrel with their leggings pulled down to their ankles. Linde feared the worst, at least until she realized the drau behind them was holding a long needle strapped to a stick. An inkwell sat on another barrel beside him.

 

     The trio shared a silence. Finally Skel made his way to the scene and stumbled against Linde, panting, “What’s going on? I can’t see a damn thing.”

 

     Linde ignored him, addressing Jeimos when she exclaimed, “Is _this_ what you came all the way here to do? Get a sketchy, back-alley tattoo on your _ass_?”

The drau artist told her, “Aye, why wouldn’t she? I got the best price in town! Can I interest ye in a free sample, miss?”

 

     “Ugh, as if!” Linde wrenched her wand from her dress and zapped the drau’s hand with a tiny beam of frost, knocking the needle from his grip. It clattered on the cobblestone below. Then she shoved him aside and yanked Jeimos’ leggings up before dragging them back down the alley.

 

     “Jeimos, what were you thinking?” she scolded them. “You could get a horrible disease that way, you know!”

Skel thrusted an accusatory finger at the red elf and blurted, “I told you, Linde! I told you! They came here to screw around and waste everyone’s time on company gold! For shame, you scoundrel!”

 

     Linde pulled Jeimos into the light of a tall, curving lamppost. The red elf was soaked from head to toe, long crimson braids messy and lank against their head. They looked the same as ever. Though something felt _off_ somehow, Linde thought as she stared hard into their eyes.

 

     Something about the way their expression fell. Something about their posture, the way they carried themselves…It was simply un-Jeimos-like. Jeimos jerked their arm out of her grip and backed away, looking at the mercenaries as if they were two hungry wolves.

 

     “Jay,” Linde began cautiously, raising her palms before her, “wait. Don’t run. I’m not angry, okay?”

“I am!” added Skel.

Linde shot him a fierce glance, then went on, “I can tell something’s wrong. But you’re my friend no matter what, okay? Please come back to the inn and we can talk about it.”

 

     Jeimos’ mouth fell slack as if they meant to speak. Then they closed it, shook their head as they backed away. Linde reached out for them, “Jeimos, please--!”

 

     But it was too late. With a clap of their hands, the red elf disappeared in an explosion of light. Linde stood there grasping at nothing, then slowly let her hand sink to her side. Skel threw his palms over his face and groaned like a dying animal.

“I’m done,” he declared. “I’ll be at the inn. Don’t wake me ‘till the sun’s up.”

 

     Linde grasped his arm before he could leave. She said slowly, “Skel, I think Jeimos is on the salt again.”

“What?”

“Dragonsalt,” she whispered sharply. “You know, _pyre dust_? They used to have a problem with it back in Damijana.”

“They never told me that.”

 

     Linde rolled her eyes. “Why would they tell you anything? You’re the most judgmental person I know!” She began pulling him along down the street. “The look in their eyes—it just…It wasn’t right. Why else would they be acting so strange and dodgy?”

Skel paused in thought. Then he mumbled, “You might be on to something. Think they came here to score more of that garbage?”

 

     “Probably,” the elfenne sighed.

Skel shook his head. “Atlas isn’t going to like this…”

“We’re not going to tell him. Let’s get a hold of Jay first and find out what’s really going on.”

“Linde,” Skel groaned, long and pained. “I’m exhausted! I’m starving! Can’t we pick this up in the morning?”

 

     “They could get themselves killed by then!” exclaimed Linde. She paused. Her stomach growled like a lion. Then she sighed, “Okay. Fine. We can at least stop for something to eat.”

 

     The two rounded the corner and ducked into a small eatery. A wooden sign dangled above the door, and painted on it was a frosted white cake topped with a red berry. Sugary treats were very popular with fae back home. The mercenaries saw that things were no different here, for every table was packed with chatting drau.

 

     Skel stepped towards the counter to order while Linde searched for a free seat. Most of the tables were held in an elevated section. It was clean and bright with candles flickering on the tables. Here well-dressed drau enjoyed rich cakes and pastries with goblets of wine.

 

     To Linde’s left she saw steps leading to a splintery old wooden floor. She peeked around the wall and into another section, dimly lit and loud with the croaking voices of kobolds. They clumsily clattered utensils and slurped beer from cracked steins. Their tongues squeaked against their plates as they licked them clean. Linde smiled at a naked baby kobold toddling down the aisle, then she blanched when he began to urinate on the floor.

 

     She saw some free seats in the corner. Still she backed her way up the steps and whispered to Skel, “Looks like we’re eating outside.”

They took their coffee and scones to the sidewalk and sat on the stony window ledge. Warm light poured onto them from behind the glass. Here they were shielded from the cold, pounding rain.

 

     “You know,” began Skel, swallowing a bite. “This place isn’t so bad. They know how to treat sugar properly, that’s for sure. Not to mention I haven’t caught a whiff of iron since we arrived! It’s like this place was _made_ for fae.”

“It _was_ made for fae,” Linde told him flatly. “In case you haven’t noticed, commoners aren’t exactly welcome here. And they treat the kobolds like trash!”

 

     “Well, perhaps if they didn’t behave like trash…”

“Skel, my god! Weren’t you a slave?”

“So what?”

Linde rolled her eyes. “So you should know better, that’s what! If someone treated _me_ like shit just for being an elf, I’d show them just how shitty I could be. I’d take a shit on their nice shiny floor.”

 

     “Not I,” Skel replied, licking his fingers clean. “My keepers weren’t perfect people, but at least they had _class_. I made an effort to be more like them and less like the hobs. That’s why they’re still hobs and _I_ became a gentleman.”

Linde sucked down the rest of her coffee. “Oh, you did? Could’ve fooled me,” she said, then she bit into the cup made of hardtack. The coffee had softened it just enough to eat.

 

     The mercenaries jumped when the door suddenly bashed against the wall. Two drau dragged a screeching kobold into the street and tossed him into a puddle.

 

     “Was it worth it, you freakish toad?” one growled as he kicked the kobold’s gut. “All this trouble for a crumb off our plates?” He delivered another kick, this time to the kobold’s head. Black blood sprayed from his nostrils.

 

     Linde stood up and shouted, “Stop that! What’s wrong with you?”

The drau looked her way as the kobold cowered in the puddle between them. One pointed at him and replied, “We left our table to pay and not a moment later, we caught _this_ abomination stealing our scraps!”

 

     “So?” Linde exclaimed. “If you were ready to pay, then obviously you were done with your plates!”

The drau glanced at eachother. Then they shot Linde a strange look. “Not from around here, are ye?” the second asked her. Their violet eyes glowed beneath the shadows of their hoods, long white hair spilling down their chests.

 

     “Don’t do this again—” begged Skel.

But Linde shrugged his hand off her shoulder and barked at the drau, “Where I’m from, we don’t kick people when they’re down!” She tipped her head down at the kobold, quivering as he buried his face in his gnarled hands. “Leave him be. He’s learned his lesson.”

 

     After a moment’s hesitation, the drau began to turn away. Before they left, one of them spit on the kobold and sneered, “Kobolds never learn a damned thing. Yer right—We’re wasting our time.” With that, they walked away and disappeared around the corner.

 

     Skel let out a big sigh of relief, dragging a palm down his wet face as Linde rushed to the kobold’s side. She pulled a kerchief from her pocket and began wiping the mud from his face. He sniffled and shook with fear.

 

     “There, there,” Linde said softly. “They won’t bother you again, little friend.”

 

     The kobold wore tattered rags, now slimy with mud. The tuft of brown hair atop his head fell wet and flat against his forehead. Once Linde wiped the mud from his eyes, they slowly cracked open. Then they rounded like plates.

 

     The kobold gasped, “Linde? Skel?”

 

     Linde and Skel looked at one another in befuddlement. The kobold struggled to stand, gesturing to himself as he explained, “It’s me! It’s Jeimos! I-I went back to the Bright Avenue Inn and they wouldn’t let me through the door! My stars, I thought I’d never see you again!” Then Kobold-Jeimos broke into heavy sobs, throwing their muddy arms around Linde’s waist.

 

     Skel stepped forward and queried, “Is this some kind of joke? How do you know our names, really?”

“I’m _Jeimos_ , I tell you!” wailed the not-kobold. Though their croaking voice was different, their Damijani accent was unmistakable. “That wizard was nothing but a con artist! He— _She_ took off with my body and I’ve been trying to hunt her down all night! I’m simply exhausted! This awful form is heaviest of burdens, I’ll have you know!”

 

     Their voice crumbled into sobs again, heavy and ugly against Linde’s knees. Skel turned to the elfenne and sighed, “Should we believe him?”

Linde pondered for a moment, then said to the kobold, “If you’re really Jeimos, then tell me where you live.”

“Drifter’s Hollow! In the s-stone tower with the clock on it!” Jeimos sniffled.

 

     “And where did you live before that?” asked Linde.

“Viersen,” replied Jeimos. “In the Irontree district!”

“What’s our boss’s name?”

“Evan Atlas! Er, Evan Foster Atlas of Greenhearst! He’s a,” they looked around, then whispered the next word, “ _lycanthrope_.”

 

     Jeimos squeezed her legs tighter and pleaded, “Linde, please, you must believe me! This isn’t some wretched kobold trick. This is your friend begging on their knees for help! That wizard swapped bodies with me, and the longer this goes on the more I understand why. Everywhere I go, I get kicked around and spit upon! This isn’t fair! T-this isn’t right”

 

     They staggered to their sickly green feet, yanking the amulet off their neck. “I think this thing has something to do with it. I don’t believe for a second that some lowly kobold could cast such a spell on their own! Please, we have to find them and fix this before it’s too late! Who knows what they’re doing to me? Oh, stars, I can hardly stand to think about it…!”

 

     The kobold squeezed their ragged shirt in their grip, wide mouth gaping as they hyperventilated. Skel cocked his head, squinting at the amulet in their fist. He snatched it away from them and examined it closer for a moment while Linde rubbed Jeimos’ back.

 

     “Breathe, Jeimos,” she told them. Jeimos closed their eyes and slowly inhaled through their jumble of yellow teeth.

Skel nudged the elfenne and exclaimed, “This has to be the same amulet from the college! I mean, what are the chances? Let’s turn this thing in at once!”

 

     Linde swiped it away from him. He tried to take it back, but she stuffed it in the cleavage of her dress and told him sharply, “We’ll turn it in _after_ we find this so-called wizard! It all makes sense now.” She turned back to Jeimos, added, “I think we just ran into her earlier. We thought it was you! No wonder she ran away from us!”

 

     Jeimos gasped, “You did? W-which way did she go?”

Linde and Skel shared a look, then Linde admitted, “We, uh…We don’t know.”

 

*

 

     Though the night was still young, the mercenaries were dead on their feet as they searched the city. They poked their heads into every shop they passed, asked everyone who would give them the time of day about a red elf. So far the trail was cold.

 

     When they walked into a greengrocer, the elven clerk raised a broom over his head and chased them back out. “Out, out, out! Shoo! No kobolds! Didn’t ye see the sign?” He pointed to a wooden sign standing by the door. A cartoonish, insulting image of a kobold was painted on it, circled in red with a slash across it.

 

     He extended a hand towards Linde and Skel, apologized, “So sorry. I didn’t mean to scare _ye_ away. Ye two are very much welcome here!”

 

     Being an elf, he appeared no older than Linde. But she could tell by the creak in his voice that he was likely in the winter of his life. His long, white hair was intricately braided and adorned with colorful feathers. He wore cotton clothes and a simple apron, ornate tattoos visible on his dusky golden arms.

 

     Linde wrinkled her nose at him, stepping between him and Jeimos. “Forget it,” she said. “If that’s how you treat innocent people who’ve done you no harm, you’re not getting a coin from me!”

 

     The clerk raised an eyebrow. “People? Ah, yer new here, aren’t ye?” He chuckled and tipped his chin towards Jeimos, peeking out from behind her. “Kobolds aren’t people, girlie. They’re one of Titania’s monsters—same as the drau, the sprights, and the pixies. Don’t give them yer sympathy. They don’t have souls like ye and I, ye see.”

 

     Brow furrowed, Skel asked him, “So if they’re all monsters, why are the kobolds shoved in a slum during the day and the drau aren't?”

“Oh, everyone has their place in the Seelie Court,” the clerk explained, leaning on his broom. “The drau have the Underground. The Sprights have Mistwatch. The pixies have Treetop. There’s a bit of a hierarchy among the monsters, as ye’ll learn in time.”

 

     He paused, tone quieting as he pointed a slender finger at them and added, “But take it from me: don’t let a single one of those soulless blunders give ye lip! Even the sprights, high ‘n mighty as they think they are…Tell a patrolman if ye ever see them acting up.”

 

     He swept a hand towards his shop. “The young folk are spineless about it, I’m sure ye’ve noticed. But us old-timers been keeping the queen’s blunders in line since she birthed ‘em all those lifetimes ago. Do the Court a favor and heed my words, huh?” Jeimos shrank back as he pointed the handle of his broom at them. “Next time a monster cops an attitude, tell ‘em Mr. Lumina and his boys will pay them a visit!”

 

     The mercenaries’ eyes bulged. “ _Lumina_?” Skel blurted, looking at Linde like she’d grown a second head. Linde stood frozen, though not from her frosty magic. She stared hard at the clerk’s face as she cautiously stepped closer to him. Jeimos lost their grip on her dress and scurried behind Skel instead.

 

     “Are you Mr. Lumina?” she queried.

“Aye. Carbrey Lumina, that’s me,” the clerk grinned, tipped his head back towards the shop. “The shop’s been in the family for three elven generations now. Everyone around here knows us, and we know everything about everybody. If ye folks are settling here in the city, ye’ll get to know us before long.”

 

     The mercenaries stood under a canvas awning, the rain beating down on it like drums above in the awkward silence. Finally Linde cleared her throat and asked, “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have relatives in Serkel, would you?”

 

     Carbrey’s white brows jumped. “Matter of fact, I do! Ye know an Ela elf named Riona Lumina?”

If it weren’t for her albinism, Linde would have flushed ten shades whiter. Skel stepped behind her, for her knees wobbled as if she may faint.

 

     “I used to,” Linde said. In her voice was the slightest quiver. “Who was she to you?”

“Why, she was my daughter! Eldest of our kin.” Carbrey’s grin faded. He scratched at his chin, sighed, “She was supposed to inherit the shop, but…Well, she ran off to be with some savage drifter from Zhoulcha. Haven’t heard from her since.”

 

     His green eyes flicked up to meet Linde’s. They were burdened by a sudden desperation, his voice quiet when he went on, “Not many Luminas in Serkel, I hear. Ye, uh…Don’t happen to know what became of her, do ye? We sure think about her a lot.”

 

     Linde opened her mouth to speak, but the words stopped on her tongue. Skel and Jeimos watched her in silence, holding their breath for as long as she stood frozen before the clerk. The lie teased at her brain. But her fae lips could utter no untruth, so she simply croaked, “We should really get going.”

 

     Quickly she turned and stormed off down the rainy street. Carbrey reached out to her, stopping at the edge of the awning. Then he turned to Skel and Jeimos with sad, questioning eyes.

 

     Jeimos hobbled off as fast as their uneven legs would carry them. Skel hesitated, then said, “Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lumina,” before tugging his hood up and jogging after the others.

 

     The trio turned a corner, Skel dragging Jeimos along as he finally caught up to Linde. “Linde, slow down!” he called. “Our friend moves like a crippled shield-king!”

 

     The elfenne stopped in the middle of the walkway, stamping her foot in a puddle. Her fists were balled at her sides.

 

     Seizing her sleeve, Skel hissed, “Did you forget your manners at home? That man might be your grandfather!”

“Of course he is!” Linde blurted, jerking out of his grip. Her wide-brimmed hat kept the rain off her face, but it could not protect her cheeks from her tears. She wiped them away with her sleeve and sniffled, “I couldn’t tell him what happened to her, Skel. I couldn’t! All these years later, and I…I can hardly accept it myself.”

 

     A silence passed between them. Linde felt calloused fingers wrapped around her palm, looked down and saw Jeimos squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry, Linde,” they said softly.

 

     “Don’t,” Linde told them, forcing a smile. “ _You’re_ the one who needs sympathy here. I’ll get over it. I just…Oh, the memory, it hit me like a…”

 

     She closed her pink eyes and shuddered. “Forget it! This isn’t the time. W-we’ll have a great story to tell when we get home, huh? Balthazaar’s going to laugh and laugh when he hears who I met!”

 

     She let out a laugh herself, a little too loud, her smile a little too wide.

“You really don’t want to meet your relatives?” queried Skel. “This might be your only chance.”

“Not… _him_ ,” Linde replied with a wince. “He was an ugly person, wasn’t he? J-just like Mother said he was.”

 

     She squeezed Jeimos’ hand and began leading them down the street. She said, “You must be freezing! Let’s get out of the rain for a while. We’ll find someplace that _isn’t_ run by some prejudiced old coot.”

 

     Skel trailed behind them, looking around at all the hostile signs in the windows.

“NO PIXIES, NO EXCEPTIONS,” read one.

“NO KOBOLDS AFTER MIDNIGHT!” read another.

A third simply had a drawing of a screaming spright with their wings being pulled off by a drau. Another depicted a pixie being squashed under a boot.

 

     “Good luck…” the goblin muttered.

 

*

 

     The inn wouldn’t let Jeimos through the doors, just as they said. So Linde and Skel retrieved their bags and checked out, Linde indignantly pitching the key at the clerk before they left. They purchased three umbrellas and made good use of them as they wandered all around the city.

 

     It was nearly sunrise when they finally got a lead. A drau citizen pointed them towards a tavern and said, “Aye, I saw a red elf mosey in there a while ago. I thought she was Unseelie at first, all that black she was wearing. Nearly knocked her on the head for it!” He chuckled. “Foreigners, right?”

 

     “That’s me!” Jeimos said quickly. “I mean, them! _Her_! Ugh, my stars…” They slapped a hand over their face. “Let’s just go…”

“Hold on,” Skel said as they approached the door. Drunken elves and drau stood around under the awning, wobbling and laughing.

 

     Skel leaned towards his cohorts and whispered, “I’m not going in there without a plan. Somehow we need to keep her from zooping away. Tell me one of you packed iron cuffs…?”

 

     Linde grinned, waggling her wand between her fingers. “No need.”

 

     The trio walked in, recoiling at the burning scent of faery wine. This tavern was not bright and elegant like the brothel they visited before. It was a dim stone dungeon with slimy mushrooms festering on the walls. Moss grew between the floorboards, damp and squishy as it overtook entire sections of the floor.

 

     The mercenaries left their umbrellas at the door. Linde brushed a hanging vine aside as she lead the group through the crowded room. Drau musicians strummed their strings and beat their drums on the stage ahead. Patrons skipped, twirled, and stumbled to the lively beat.

 

     Linde gasped when a drunken elf threw his arm around her and slurred, “Why don’tcha leave with me t’night, girlie?” His clammy hand slid down the front of her dress, but more than her modesty Linde was concerned about the amulet stuffed in her bra.

 

     She raised her wand, but Skel was quicker. He pressed his glowing fingers to his temple and made a shoving motion. The elf yelped as he was tossed against a chair, the flimsy thing splintering under the force.

 

     “Because she’s leaving with _me_ , you slob,” Skel told him bluntly, long nose held high.

 

     The elf blabbered something back, too tangled in the mess to pursue them when they made their way through the crowd.

 

     Linde leaned towards the goblin and whispered, “Quick draw, jackrabbit.”

Skel said nothing, just showed her a prideful smirk.

 

     Jeimos clutched the end of the elfenne’s dress as she pushed through whooping, gyrating fae and monsters. They saw other kobolds among them, all shuffled together in their own little groups. It seemed any one who got isolated was getting pummeled and pushed around by taller peoples.

 

     They swallowed their anxiety and grasped Linde’s dress tighter. They bumped into her, nearly knocked her down when she stopped in her tracks. She ducked down and pointed to a table ahead, hissed, “Jay, I think that’s you! I mean, uh, her!”

 

     Jeimos blinked, straining their kobold eyes in the darkness. But there was no mistaking it—that was their old vessel dancing half-naked on a table, clumsily swinging an amphora of wine around in its grip. Jeimos’ kobold cheeks flushed from green to red, slapping their hands over their wide, froggish mouth.

 

     Tojum sang loudly over the music, wearing a sloppy grin on her face as she tossed her top into the crowd. She was dressed down in Jeimos’ boots and underwear, hair chopped into a short and wild style like flames rising from her head.

 

     Jeimos watched in horror as she snatched a drau’s felt hat off his head. She held it out upside-down, swayed her hips, teased the strap of her bra and the patrons around her cheered, throwing gold and silver coins into the hat.

 

     “Linde, you have to stop her right now! She’s making a damned clown of me!” Jeimos begged through their teeth, anxiously bouncing on their toes. Skel stared up at the scene, jaw slacked while Linde stood up and carefully aimed her wand. After all the running around tonight, she had little energy to spare.

 

     What she did have, she concentrated to her hands and they glowed with magic. The magical energy absorbed into the wand and its crystal tip lit up white. Its brightness caught the attention of patrons, who briefly turned to her before shielding their eyes from its blast.

 

     A beam of light zipped through the air, leaving a trail of frosty mist in its wake. Tojum’s orange eyes rounded as she saw it coming towards her, but in that instant it was too late. The beam exploded against her naked belly and left a patch of frost behind. The ice rapidly spread up her torso as she began to panic.

 

     Tojum dropped the hat full of coins and howled for help, flailing her stiffening arms. Drunk patrons watched helplessly, more amused than concerned with her plight. Within seconds she was frozen stiff and silent. Now she was but a white statue of an elf clawing at the sky.

 

     “Was that part of the show?” one patron slurred to another. Skel’s ears twitched, then he got an idea. Linde had fallen to her knees, panting in Jeimos’ arms while the goblin jumped onto the table with the statue.

 

     He raised his arms and grinned at the crowd, exclaimed, “Ta-da! That’s all for tonight, monsters and peoples! I do hope you’ve enjoyed the show!”

 

     The patrons murmured to one another, then one by one they flashed their teeth. Their claps and cheers swelled as Skel pried Tojum off the table. The ice connecting her booted feet crunched as it separated from the wood, and then he was carrying the statue through the crowd.

 

     “Come on, come on,” he muttered towards Linde and Jeimos as he passed. Linde’s knees wobbled as she rose. Jeimos caught her when she collapsed again.

“Wait…Wait, I…” she wheezed. “Arcane fatigue…Dizzy…”

 

     Skel groaned and hefted the frozen elf over his left shoulder, then pulled Linde onto his right. “Jeez, Jay. You’re all of what—ten pounds?” he mumbled.

“Eighty-three, last time I checked,” the kobold corrected him.

The goblin rolled his eyes. “Pff, you elves…All paper muscles and glass bones…”

 

     They followed their cohorts as they slowly made their way back to the door.

“Er,” they began, timidly pointing at their frozen vessel, “that spell won’t give me frostbite, will it? I would prefer to keep all my fingers and toes, if possible.”

 

     “You’re fine,” Linde panted. She waved a dismissive hand. “Shallow freeze, on a timer…I’ll feel better when…It times out…”

“How long do we have?” asked Skel.

Linde replied, “Ten, fifteen minutes…If we’re lucky…”

 

     Skel muttered a curse under his breath, losing his patience by the second as she shoved stumbling people out of his way.

 

     “We have to get her into an alley,” explained Jeimos. “Then we have to put the amulet on her and I’ll try to charge it. With any luck, it’ll—”

 

     The deafening crack of ice suddenly pierced the air. The crowd gasped and shrieked as the room lit up in an ominous red glow. Skel was among those shrieking when he dropped Tojum to the floor, patting the flames from the shoulder of his robe. Tojum’s body was bathed in fire. Smoke billowed from her nose and mouth. She rose to her feet and let out a furious, drunken scream.

 

     Then the crowd undulated, panicked, scattered when she began to lob fireballs every which way. One of them whizzed by Skel’s head, Jeimos tackling him down just in time. The crowd stampeded around them in a frenzy.

 

     Sloppy fireballs splashed against the walls in a rain of cinders. The moss quickly ignited. Flames spread down to the floor and up to the wooden supports in the ceiling.

 

     Linde was knocked to the floor by the crowd, all rushing towards the front door. They pushed and shoved eachother in their intoxicated hazes while the band behind them had long since abandoned the stage. Several peoples’ clothes had ignited, igniting others as they shoved into them.

 

     Some made it out the door. The rest were trapped when Tojum launched another explosive fireball at the ceiling and a heavy wooden beam came crashing down. It blocked the doorway, blazing and immovable. Screams of terror drowned out all else but the crackling fire.

 

     In her red elf vessel, Tojum was impervious to flame. She wriggled her way passed the panicked patrons and slipped under the fallen beam. Out into the street she sprinted, skin hissing and steaming with every raindrop that pelted her. But the mercenaries were still trapped inside with everyone else and the blaze was spreading quickly.

 

     No one could move the beam—not while it burned so hot. Except perhaps Skel, who gnashed his teeth as he pressed his fingers to his temples, focused every last shred of his energy to his hands. His fingers glowed bright, his body still and silent as chaos reigned around him.

 

     His elbows quaked. Orange sweat beaded his brow, reflecting the fire ahead. But his efforts were not in vain, for the beam began to quake too. Its bottom edge lifted, slowly but surely. Then it rose high towards the ceiling. With a furious screech he telekinetically lobbed the beam towards the empty stage.

 

     It crashed against a pillar, sending a chunk of the roof down. Rainwater flooded in through the ceiling while the crowd flooded out through the door. Seelie responders were already at the scene in their white and green armor, dousing the building with magical frost beams.

 

     Arcane fatigue claimed Skel, it seemed, for Jeimos found him collapsed on the floor. Slowly and laboriously they tried to drag him out. Not a minute later, Linde showed up with a sudden vigor and helped pull him out the door. The three mercenaries gathered with everyone else in the middle of the street.

 

     Skel opened his bleary eyes and shook off the blur. He wobbled as he sat up on his elbows, awake in time to see the last flame extinguished. Black smoke hung above the ruined building, now completely encased in frost. Responders were questioning the crowd and ushering bystanders away.

 

     This wasn’t the best time to stick around, the mercenaries figured, so without a word they made their exit.

 

*

 

     “Blast it! Shit, shite, _shite_ on my blasted life!” Jeimos nearly sobbed. “I was afraid she might do that, but I honestly didn’t think she was clever enough to figure it out! Oh, damn me! Mr. Atlas tells me time and time again to listen to my gut, and here I am still thinking my idiot head knows better!” The kobold balled their fists and knocked them against the sides of their skull.

 

     “Jeimos,” Linde sighed wearily, boots squishing with every trudging step. “For the last time, that’s enough! It’s not your fault, okay?”

 

     “This whole damned thing is my fault, Linde!” they argued.

The elfenne interrupted sharply, “Well, beating yourself up isn’t making it better! We came _so close_ to catching her. She has to be getting tired, especially after all _that_ drama. I know if we just…if we just…”

 

     Her voice trailed off weakly. Linde stopped in her tracks, wobbling in place as she brought her hands to her head. Skel rushed back to steady her, but he too was claimed by fatigue and flopped to the sidewalk. Linde thumped down beside him with a groan.

 

     “You two are going to run yourselves into the grave,” Jeimos told them. They helped the fae back to their feet and went on, “I say we call it a night, chaps. Er, _day_.” They tipped their head up towards the clear orange sky, where the sunrise reflected in miles of rippling clouds.

 

     The rain had stopped hours ago. Now the drau and kobolds were disappearing from the streets. Elves, sprights, and pixies were slowly taking their place to keep the city running endlessly.

 

     The tall and elegant elves walked about in their bright livery. The sprights were just as elegant in structure, but child-sized creatures that fluttered on iridescent wings. They floated around with their noses held high, reluctant to ever let their feet touch the ground.

 

     The pixies were even smaller than the sprights. They were barely taller than a hand was long, easily mistaken for insects if it weren’t for their constant giggling. They too zipped around on wings that sparkled like the sunrise over the sea.

 

     These folks paid no mind to the mercenaries. It was the patrolmen who hassled them as they made their way to a secluded park bench for a rest. A Seelie patrolman jabbed his staff between Jeimos and their cohorts, addressing the kobold when he said, “Halt, kobold! Do ye have written permission to be out after sunset?”

 

     Jeimos’ eyes darted back and forth between Linde, Skel, and the patrolman. “Er, I don’t believe so…?” they stammered. The patrolman’s expression hardened behind his helmet. He hooked the kobold’s shirt on the end of his staff and lifted them high.

 

     “Then ye know damn well yer going to the pigs! I warned ye yesterday not to cross me! Ye got no one but yerself to blame fer this one, frogface.”

 

     Flailing wildly, Jeimos desperately tried to wriggle out of their shirt as they cried, “No, please! I told you, I’m not a kobold! You must believe me, sir, please, please—”

 

     Their pleading ended with a shriek as a beam of bright light whizzed by, cold frost just barely grazing their skin. The beam struck the patrolman’s back and he whirled around in shock. Before he even realized what happened, the frost had spread up his body and froze him in place.

 

     Skel unhooked Jeimos from his staff. He threw an unconscious Linde over his shoulder, then he and Jeimos hobbled away. Before long a spright couple drifted down the trail hand-in-hand. They turned to the frozen patrolman as they passed.

 

     One of them chuckled, “Look, dear. How quaint! They’ve put a new statue in the park.”

The other wrinkled her nose at it. “Rather ugly thing, isn’t it? As if the Seelie patrol needs their egos stroked any harder,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Then a devious grin spread across her face. “I’m going to break it.”

 

     The other spright’s jaw dropped. “Dear, no--!” they exclaimed, then cringed as his lover flew into it with her booted foot extended.

 

     She kicked the statue’s arm off with a loud crack, followed by her delighted giggles.

The first spright giggled with her, said, “I can’t believe you did that! You’re just terrible! You—”

 

     Then their laughter ceased at once, eyes bulging as blood gushed from the severed elbow.

 

 


	3. Slum Hogs

##  **[CHAPTER 3: SLUM HOGS]**

     The kobold slum was bustling in daylight hours. Its denizens returned from Topside with their spoils and hid them away in their crumbling shacks. Jeimos returned with their cohorts and whatever was on their backs—including an unconscious Linde.

 

     The trio ducked into a shoddy inn and collapsed on a bench. There they sat to catch their breath, Skel slumping down like a heavy sack of potatoes.

 

     Two kobolds were bickering behind the front desk. They stopped, turned to the foreign mercenaries, and one of them said, “Are ye folks lost?”

 

     “No, we need a room,” panted Jeimos. “How much for one day?”

The kobold couple looked them up and down for a moment. Then the second one replied, “Kobold pays 2GP. Fae pays 10GP each.”

 

     Skel sighed as he fished through his knapsack. Meanwhile the first clerk pointed to Linde and queried, “Is she dead? No bodies inside! Takes outside for pigs!”

“She’s not dead!” replied Jeimos. A lie teased at their brain, but as a fae it could never pass their lips.

 

     …Except they weren’t fae anymore. As a monster they could say whatever nonsense they pleased. The realization hit Jeimos like a brick and they quickly added, “She, er…She had too much to drink, that’s all.”

 

     Skel froze just briefly, shooting a wide-eyed look towards Jeimos. He wasn’t used to hearing their voice spill a lie. He found 22 gold coins and slid them across the counter.

 

     The kobold clerk planted her misshapen hands on her hips. Her course brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail at the very top of her head, apron filthy with dirt, grease, and possibly blood. She eyeballed the mercenaries for a long moment, then finally tossed a key towards them. Skel fumbled before catching it.

 

     Then the clerk tossed a tattered old rag at him and said, “Just cleans up when yer done. Rottie charge doubles for milk stain, triples for puke stain!”

“Quadruples for blood stain,” added the second clerk.

 

     Skel glanced at the number on the key’s tag and nodded. “Understood.” he mumbled, then he hoisted Linde over his shoulder once more and the trio made their way down the hall.

“Milk stain? Who goes on a milk bender at the inn?” queried Jeimos.

 

     Skel slapped a hand over his face and almost laughed, but the fatigue was too heavy. “You really need to get out more, Jay,” he told them, and then they were passing through the creaky door to their room.

 

     They both recoiled at the stench, pulling the necks of their shirts over their noses. The floor was but planks of scrap wood lying over dirt, the walls made of stacked stones oozing with slime. The slime appeared to be some type of fungus, a dark goop from which tiny gold mushrooms sprouted.

 

     There were no windows, only a candle sitting on a plate in the corner. In that same corner was a single wolf pelt lying over a pile of hay. The fur was filthy and crusted together.

“ _No_ ,” was all Skel said, turning to leave.

 

     Jeimos swiped his hand and pulled him back, reminded him, “We can’t risk sticking our necks out, Skel! This place is the perfect hiding spot! It’s dark, it’s secluded, it has no windows…”

 

     “No,” Skel repeated, dragging Jeimos back down the hall. Linde was slung over his shoulder. She groaned against his back, beginning to stir.

“Where are we?” she mumbled.

 

     “A trash heap,” Skel replied flatly. He turned back to Jeimos and went on, “This is worse than a Morite slave shack! I’m getting a refund and we’re going to find someplace that doesn’t stink like—”

 

     The goblin paused, stopping in the doorway to the lobby. Jeimos bumped into him, gasping at the sight before them. Tojum stood in front of the desk, cloaking Jeimos’ elven body in a ratty, muddy old blanket.

 

     She leaned forward and begged to the clerk, “Jeimos has no golds! Please, please, lets Jeimos stays just one night!”

 

     The clerk shook her head and pointed towards the door. “Rottie says no, no, and no again! Nobody stays free, especially elves! If no haves gold, then gets out!” She swiped a broom and held it up threateningly. Tojum backed away, one palm raised while the other clutched the blanket.

 

     She looked around the room for solutions. Then she saw Skel standing in the doorway with Linde beside him, barely upright on her wobbling knees. Tojum’s gaze flicked downward, then a wide smile spread across her face when she saw Jeimos peeking out from behind them.

 

     The mercenaries flinched as she staggered towards them and fell to her knees. She addressed Jeimos when she said, “Oh, goods, goods, goods! Jeimos thought she never sees ye again! Thoughts Tojum died and loses body forever!”

 

     “You are not Jeimos!” the kobold growled, thrusting a gnarled finger in her face. “And I am not Tojum! I want you to fix this mess you’ve created this instant, you damned cretin!”

 

     “Aye, of course! Let’s fixes it now!” Tojum nodded, smile wide and toothy as she ushered the trio down the hall.

The clerk stepped after them with a broom and called, “Ye not goes back there until ye pays, elf!”

 

     She crowed and wobbled after them until Skel dug into his pocket, tossing a fistful of coins on the floor behind him. “Keep the change!” he called. The clerk stooped to pick them up, mumbling curses under her breath.

 

     Tojum and the mercenaries returned to the foul little room. Tojum slammed the door shut behind her, anxiously rubbing her hands together when she queried, “You haves amulet, right?”

 

     “You mean this thing?” asked Linde, pulling it from the neckline of her blue dress.

“Aye!” Tojum exclaimed. She tried to snatch it but Linde jerked it away.

 

     “Before we hand it over,” began Skel, shooting a glare towards Tojum, “answer this: will you run away with this amulet?”

Tojum rapidly shook her head. Her face was streaked with dirt, chopped hair still wet. “No, no, no,” she replied quickly.

 

     Linde and Skel shared a look. No fae could tell a lie. Linde added, “You’ll only use it to switch bodies with Jeimos?”

And Tojum nodded. “Aye, aye, aye! Promise!”

 

     Linde and Skel turned to Jeimos, who showed them a nod. The kobold turned back to Tojum, said, “Tell me what I need to do then.”

 

     “Jeimos body not knows the spell,” explained Tojum. Then she pointed to Jeimos and went on, “But Tojum body does! So puts amulet around Jeimos’ neck, then Tojum charges sigil. Amulet does hard works, then we have bodies back.”

 

     Linde hesitated before handing over the amulet. “And why do you want it back all of a sudden? Did you contract some horrible disease or something?”

Tojum shook her head, voice meandering and decidedly vague as she answered, “Jeimos makes big mistake. Better to be Tojum now.”

 

     “Just give it to her, Linde,” sighed Jeimos. “I’d like to get this over with.”

The elfenne nodded and slipped the amulet around Tojum’s neck. “Alright. Stand back, everyone! I have no idea what I’m doing,” Jeimos warned as they raised their glowing kobold hands.

 

     Their palms buzzed like bees before a beam of energy arced from their fingertips, straight towards the amulet. The sigil glowed brilliantly, then a bright flash consumed the room.

 

     Linde and Skel raised their arms over their teary eyes. After several seconds they blinked the dancing spots away. The room looked just the same, and so too did the two figures standing in the middle of it.

 

     But they could tell by the life in those figures’ eyes, the way they carried their posture, that something had definitely changed. Whoever inhabited Tojum’s body looked at their hands with a great big grin and cried, “Finally! Tojum free! Tojum free! Tojum _free_!”

 

     The kobold burst through the door, chanting and whooping all the way down the hall. Jeimos still sat on the floor of the tiny room, shaking the dizziness from their head. Linde and Skel kneeled on either side of them. “Please tell me you’re Jeimos,” said Skel.

 

     “Y-yes,” the elf replied, rubbing at their forehead. “It’s me. My stars, it’s _me_!” Their eyes bugged at the sight of their own hands, quickly rising as they turned all around. The crusty old blanket was rumpled around their feet, body bared except their torn, filthy undergarments. Their skin was equally filthy and they recoiled at their own smell.

 

     “Ugh, what did that hoodlum _do_? Roll around in shite all day?” Jeimos grumbled. They reluctantly swiped the blanket and covered themselves once more. “Er, sorry you had to see me like this, chaps…”

 

     Their cohorts let out long sighs of relief, trapping the elf in a hug. “Thank the gods,” Skel nearly sobbed with exhaustion. “We can go home…We can _finally_ go home…”

 

     “Do you feel okay, Jeimos?” asked Linde.

The elf shrugged, replied, “I suppose so. As well as I can feel in such a state.” They shook their head. “Please, let’s just get on a flight home. I never want to set foot in this horrid kingdom again!”

 

     Before they left, Linde took a much-needed rest. Skel delivered the amulet to the college under the agreement that he could keep the whole reward to himself.

 

     Meanwhile Jeimos stepped into the inn’s bathroom—really more of a closet—to scrub away the worst of the grime and change into one of Skel’s extra robes. Linde startled awake as the creaky door flew open, slamming against the wall.

 

     Jeimos stood in the doorway, short hair still damp and slicked back. Their fists were balled at their sides and their expression was hardened with anger. Linde sat up from the wolf-pelt bed and stammered, “Jay, w-what’s wrong?”

 

     With a deep breath, the elf stepped into the room and slammed the door behind them. Their voice quivered through gnashed teeth, “There is a tattoo of a rat. Fornicating with a cockroach. On my _arse_.”

 

*

 

     Skel returned to the inn room with a fat sack of platinum coins and the biggest smile his cohorts had ever seen on him. “Are you sure you don’t want a nap first?” queried Linde.

Skel waved a hand and replied, “Gods, no! I’ll have fifteen miserable hours to sleep away on our flight home! I’m with Jeimos—let’s just get out of this cesspit of a kingdom.”

 

     The trio gathered their scant belongings and made their way out of the inn. The sun was at its highest point, shining brilliantly in the rose-gold sky. Aurae—delicate air nymphs—fluttered high above on thin butterfly wings, making vapor trails in their wake.

 

     The flight home should be smooth, the mercenaries thought. But the journey back to the port may not be, for near the edge of the slum they saw two Seelie patrolmen hassling a familiar kobold. The trio ducked behind a shack, peeking around the corner to watch the scene unfolding before them.

 

     Tojum was spread out on her back in the mud, screaming for help as the patrolmen hammered long stakes into the ground around her. All four of her limbs were tied to the stakes, trapping her to the street. Kobold denizens passed her by without a glance, keeping their heads down and ignoring her desperate pleas.

 

     Perhaps her kin ignored her, but the hungry pigs did not. They surrounded her, snorting and twitching anxiously, just waiting for the patrolmen to step aside and let them feast.

 

     “If ye didn’t want to be gobbled, ye should have thought a little harder before taking Officer Perryton’s arm,” one patrolman told her as he hammered down the last stake. He shook his head. “Ye kobolds are so damn _brazen_ these days! I remember the old times, when good folks like the Luminas kept ye in line…”

 

     Linde brought a hand to her mouth, eyes rounding. Finally the patrolmen finished up. The second pointed his hammer at the kobold, said, “May yer kin look upon ye and remember their place in this Court!” then he and his fellow officer turned to leave.

 

     They were barely ten paces away before the pigs erupted into wild squeals, piling onto the screaming kobold like ants to an apple core. Jeimos shot a brief look at their cohorts, then all three rushed to the scene. The elf willed flames to their hands and smacked each of the pigs, leaving steaming red hand prints on their rear ends.

 

     The beasts scrambled away in a jumble of high-pitched squeals, disappearing into any nook and cranny they could squeeze themselves. They left behind a panting kobold, bruised and bloody and smeared with filth. Her tattered clothes were even more tattered than before.

 

     Jeimos squeezed the ropes attaching her limbs to the stakes. The fibers quickly burned away and the kobold sat upright, looking at Jeimos in disbelief. Linde and Skel looked at them with the very same expression.

 

     “Jay, what are you doing?” asked Skel. “She almost ruined your life! Let her rot, it’s what she deserves!”

Jeimos shook their head, helping the kobold to her feet. “I won’t,” they replied. “ _Nobody_ deserves this. This is simply barbaric! Is this even legal, Tojum?”

 

     Tojum twisted the bottom of her shirt, wringing out a gush of brown water. They nodded and panted, “Aye, legal. But only to kobolds! Patrolmens would never does this to other monsters.”

 

     She sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. “Kobolds lowest folks in Seelie Court. Lower than dirts, no matter if kobolds smart or good or nothings!” She kicked a clod of mud and grumbled, “Kobolds just pig foods, then becomes pig shits…”

 

     “So I’ve seen,” said Jeimos. Their brow felt heavy, lips curved into a solemn frown. “I’m sorry, Tojum. Things just…They shouldn’t be this way!” The elf stood up and turned to their cohorts. Linde and Skel refused to meet their gaze.

 

     “Yer…” the kobold began sheepishly. “Yer kind to Tojum. Even though Tojum unkind to ye. Very, very, very unkind! Yer only good elf Tojum ever meets. Ye save Tojum from beings pig shits!”

 

     Jeimos offered a solemn smile. “Well, you did return my body to me. With a few cuts and dings—not to mention that blasted _tattoo_ …” they grumbled.

 

     Then they went on, “But clearly you aren’t so bad, to have stepped up and done the right thing eventually. Thank you. I do really appreciate it.”

 

     The kobold stood before them in silence, eyes shifting this way and that. She scratched at her arm and looked as if she had something to say.

 

     Finally she began, “Um…Tojum has confession.” She took a deep breath. “Tojum get Jeimos in big, big, big trouble. Patrolmens wants ye for arsons. If they finds ye, they locks ye in Iron Box forever! That’s why Tojum _really_ wants to be Tojum again…”

 

     The mercenaries’ brows shot up all at once. They leaned in and muttered to eachother for a long moment.

 

     Then Jeimos turned back to the kobold and said, “Well! It looks like we’re both in an absolute bastard of a bind, aren’t we?” They kneeled before the kobold, tone heavy and sincere as they continued, “We have to get to the dragon port. Is there _any_ way to get there without passing through Topside? Please, you must know a way!”

 

     Gaze dropping to her muddy feet, Tojum slowly shook her head and replied, “No. Sorry. Kobold Town trapped inside walls, and all ways out has patrolmens. If we leaves, they catches us! So we stuck in pig shits, and then become pig shits together.” Her wide frown deepened. “Tojum very sorry, Jeimos. Jeimos nice fae, not deserves bad things like ugly, mean, Tojum…”

 

     “Hey,” began Skel, “they’re not after Linde and I, right? So why don’t we simply stroll out, and Jeimos, you can teleport yourself.”

“You give me far too much credit, Skel,” said Jeimos. “I can’t teleport across the whole city! Why, I might end up smearing my atoms across the slipstream of time and space!”

 

     “I don’t know what you just said,” Linde said, fishing through her knapsack. “But I just remembered something. It’s Friday, isn’t it?”

Skel raised a hairless eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The elfenne pulled a notebook and pen from her bag and answered, “Isaac and Lukas should be back from their last contract by now, and that means Shadow is in the Hollow.”

 

     Jeimos gasped, “My stars, you’re right! Oh, but we couldn’t possibly ask them to fly so _far_ …”

“Jay,” Linde began, pointing her pen at the elf, “any one of the Guys would fly to the ends of Gaia for you. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

 

     She pressed the notebook against Skel’s shoulder, using it as a flat surface as she began to scrawl a note. She continued, “Skel and I almost got killed—I don’t even _know_ how many times tonight—just trying to find you. And we’d do it a million times over if it meant you’d be safe!”

 

     “I wouldn’t,” Skel muttered. Linde slapped the goblin’s mouth with her frosty hand, sealing it shut yet again.

 

*

 

     Once the letter was in the post box, all the mercenaries could do was hide in the kobold slum and wait. Despite Linde and Skel’s protests, Jeimos insisted that Tojum stay with them. Skel was reluctant to spend his hard-earned reward money, but Linde wrung enough coins out of him for food and supplies as they hid away in the tiny, dark little room.

 

     By the second day, no one could tolerate the stench of Tojum’s clothes any longer. It was keeping the others up at night, so Linde and Skel agreed to go shopping for her. “Are there any colors you’d prefer?” Linde asked her before they left.

 

     Tojum pointed at Linde and replied, “Tojum wants that dress! Same one, pretty and blue!”

The elfenne looked down at her garment. “Oh, this is custom,” she told the kobold. “I make all my own clothes. You really like it?”

 

     “Aye! Tojum mades pretty dress once too.” The kobold frowned, gestured to her muddy rags. “Peepaw tores it to little pieces though, says Tojum not ‘she’ and must be ‘he’. But Peepaw became pig shits long times ago, so now Tojum wears what Tojum wants!” She paused, then sighed. “If only Tojum has golds for pretty things…”

 

     Linde smiled. “Skel has fat pockets, he’ll cover it. We’ll come back with something pretty and blue, I promise.”

“No, wait—” Skel began, but Linde had already dragged him through the door and closed it. Jeimos and Tojum sat by the light of the single candle, flickering gently in the center of the room.

 

     After an uncomfortable silence, Jeimos took a deep breath and began, “I, er…I understand how it feels. When the outside doesn’t match the inside, I mean. My parents would not accept the person I am inside either.”

 

     Tojum looked up from the candle, meeting their eyes. “Nobody believes Tojum body wrong. They thinks _Tojum_ wrong, Tojum crazy, Tojum stupid…”

 

     She tapped the side of her head. “But Tojum not like other kobolds. Tojum read books, knows better than them!” She paused, gaze drifting to the side. Then it snapped back to Jeimos, concern wrinkling her brow when she asked, “Ye don’t think Tojum crazy, do ye?”

 

     The red elf grinned and replied, “No crazier than I.”

The kobold’s shoulders slumped with relief, lips infected by the other’s grin. “Goods. Tojum knows Jeimos very, very, very smart. Must go to fancy school to learn fancy magics!”

 

     “Oh yes, I attended many years at Damijana’s top arcane college,” Jeimos told her. The sat cross-legged, resting their chin on their fist as they continued, “But I don’t recommend it. I often wonder what kind of person I’d be today, had my childhood not been so strict and unforgiving. The pressure of that blasted coursework left me riddled with ulcers!”

 

     The kobold nodded. “Aye. Tojum felts them.”

 

*

 

     On the fourth day, Linde returned with scissors and tried to shape up Jeimos’ hair. “I don’t know, Jay,” she mumbled as she clipped away another inch. “I think it’s a lost cause. Do you want to start over? I mean, it’s only hair.”

 

     The elfenne had been at it for hours. Sitting on the floor before her, Jeimos sighed, “I suppose if we must. And Glenvar spent all that time braiding it so nicely for me…”

 

     Their orange gaze flicked to Tojum, clad in an ornate blue dress as she filed her toenails in the corner. “Who’s the ham-fisted goon responsible for this cut anyway, Tojum? I have half a mind to demand a refund!”

 

     The kobold winced. They hesitated, then replied quietly, “Um, Tojum cuts it herself…Sorry. Very drunk!”

“Clearly,” the red elf grumbled.

 

     Skel leafed through a newspaper beside them, squinting at the text in the dim candlelight.

“Ah, look here,” he said, showing an excerpt to Linde, “there’s an article about the Lumina family!”

“I don’t want to hear it, Skel,” the elfenne grumbled. She clipped the rest of Jeimos’ locks off and began shaping the remnants evenly.

 

     Skel ignored her and read aloud, “…Dannae Lumina, son of Carbrey and Elanora Lumina, was found ‘not guilty’ yesterday for the assault of Irleth Moonswallow…” He folded the paper and tapped Linde on the head with it. “Well, isn’t that nice? Maybe they’re not so bad after all.”

 

     “Moonswallow is drau name,” said Tojum. She wrinkled her flat nostrils in disgust. “Tojum hates drau, but hates Luminas even more. Tojum knows Dannae guilty. Dannae try to drown Tojum in compost heap once when Tojum young.”

“You’re familiar with the Luminas then?” queried Jeimos.

 

     Tojum nodded. “Everyone knows Luminas! Very big family; lives here long, long, long time. Fae loves them but monsters hates them. Big, mean, evil family! Gets away with murders!” She furrowed her brow, picking at a wart on her foot. “Tojum wish all Luminas become pig shits already.”

 

     Skel covered his mouth with the newspaper, hiding a snicker. Linde let out a long, weary sigh and continued cutting Jeimos’ hair without a word. She jerked, nearly stabbed the red elf’s head when a loud sound startled her. It came from outside, like the mighty caw of a giant crow.

 

     “Is that…?” muttered Skel.

Jeimos exclaimed, “It has to be!” They heard a rising commotion outside. Voices swelled both in fear and excitement. Tojum and the mercenaries cautiously made their way down the hall and peeked out the door to the inn. Not far down the street was a familiar gazebo, and perched on its roof was a familiar roc.

 

     “Shadow!” the mercenaries gasped in unison. They cringed as the bird plucked a small pig off the street and swallowed it whole, surrounding kobold denizens whooping and hollering excitedly.

 

     Isaac pushed his flight goggles onto his head, saddled on the roc’s back. The mercenaries heard him scolding the beast as someone else stepped out of the gazebo. It was none other than their captain, Evan.

 

     The mercenary trio cheered as they sprinted towards him. Evan was closely examining a slip of notebook paper in his hand—the letter on which Linde had written directions to the inn. He heard familiar voices and squishing footsteps stampeding towards him. The instant he looked up from the paper, he was tackled by three of his crewmen.

 

     Jeimos threw their arms around his neck and sobbed, “Oh, Mr. Atlas! Thank the stars you’re here! I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life!”

 

     Evan trapped them in a tight squeeze. “Well, I suppose not!” he laughed. Then he withdrew, shooting a glance at the others. “I’m glad to see you too, Jeimos. I’ve been terribly anxious for all of you since the moment you left the Hollow.”

 

     He tipped his head towards Isaac, dismounting the roc behind him. “As soon as I told the crew about your letter, every one of them jumped at the chance to come get you. But I thought, well, since _I_ was the fool who let you come out here in the first place…”

 

     Jeimos clutched his arm and told him, “Please don’t have regrets! I admit that I didn’t exactly get what I came here for. But we certainly aren’t leaving empty-handed! We’ll have time to tell you all about it on the way back, I’m sure.”

“Plenty,” replied Evan. He looked around at the crowd of kobolds, staring back at him with crooked, gaping smiles.

 

     The captain cleared his throat, leaned in close to his crew and muttered, “Now, uh…Is this a secure place to stop?”

“No!” the crew exclaimed in unison.

Evan nodded and sighed, “Very well.” Then he whistled towards Isaac, hollered, “Get back on the bird, boy! We’re turning around!”

 

     “Aww, come on! Can’t we stop for minute? I’m starving to death and my butt’s killing me!” Isaac whined. Evan simply pointed to Shadow and the boy climbed back into the saddle with a dramatic groan. Shadow made a similar sound from the depths of her throat.

 

     The mercenaries stepped into the canvas gazebo, colorful with graffiti all over its sides. Just before they closed the door, Jeimos looked back to the street.

 

     Among all the gawking kobolds stood Tojum, looking sullen and lonely in her vibrant blue dress. Her feet were caked with mud up to her ankles. The slum loomed around her with all its browns and grays, its depressed denizens and predatory pigs…

 

     Jeimos couldn’t stand the sight. Even more, they couldn’t stand the thought of leaving someone like Tojum to grow old and die in such a pit of despair. Not while folks like the patrolmen and the Luminas prowled just outside the walls. To be as a rat in such a dark and oppressive cage, well…Jeimos was all too familiar with that scenario.

 

     “Mr. Atlas,” said Jeimos, turning back to the captain in the gazebo. “I realize this is most unorthodox, and do forgive me for what I’m about to ask, but…”

 

*

 

     “Tojum never sees real, live humans before,” Tojum mentioned excitedly. “Or roc! Or ocean! Or world outsides Seelie Court!”

 

     She peeked through the thatch window of the gazebo, peering out at the blue horizon ahead. After a quick break at the port, Shadow was soaring back towards Noalen on aching wings.

 

     The kobold sat down on the floor and added, “Only sees things in books. Tojum world very, very, very small…”

“My world was very small once too.” Evan smiled at her. “Now I travel all over Looming Gaia, and just when I think I’ve seen it all, something else comes along to surprise me. It’s a bigger place than you think.”

 

     Linde told the kobold, “You’re going to love it in Drifter’s Hollow, Tojum! It’s very different from what you’re used to, but in a good way.”

“Yes. The streets aren’t caked in sewage, for one thing,” said Skel.

 

     Linde shoved him and added, “People don’t treat eachother like sewage either.” She paused. “Except maybe Gwyneth. She’s just awful. But everyone else is wonderful, I promise!”

 

     Tojum smiled, baring her mouthful of crooked teeth. They sat in her gums like marshmallows haphazardly thrown onto a cake.

“Lukas is pretty mean too,” mentioned Skel.

Evan glanced at him and smirked, “Hey now, don’t be so hard on Lukas…”

Linde stuck her tongue out at the goblin. “Says the pot to the kettle! You’re the meanest, crabbiest one of all, Skel!” she teased.

 

     Skel crossed his arms tightly, turning towards the window with his long nose in the air. Jeimos couldn’t help but smile. Things felt more normal now than they had in days as they scrambled helplessly through a strange, foreign, and hostile land.

 

     Fifteen hours later, Shadow touched down in familiar soil. She planted the gazebo in the mercenary compound’s “landing port”, which was really just a patch of dirt behind the dining hall. Her passengers stretched their cramped muscles and yawned as they stepped out.

 

     Isaac slid lifelessly out of her saddle and tossed his goggles on the ground. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, and then he wobbled down the path on bowed legs. Shadow cooed and tucked her head into her wing, roosting in place on top of the gazebo.

 

     Evan led Tojum and his crew down the opposite direction, stopping before a large wooden building. It was a boxy, two-story structure with a vegetable garden fenced off to one side. Chickens clucked in their coop adjacent to it.

 

     “This is the boarding house,” Evan explained to the kobold. “Normally it’s reserved only for mercenaries. But if Jeimos has given you their blessing, you’re welcome to stay until you get a place of your own. Rent is collected monthly; just pay what you can for now.”

 

     He turned to Jeimos, added, “I’m sorry, Jeimos, but I really have to catch up on some things. Go ahead and show your friend around Drifter’s Hollow, then come see me tomorrow afternoon. We can discuss all this then.”

The red elf wrung their hands, swallowing the lump in their throat before they croaked, “V-very well.”

 

     Despite their exhaustion, Jeimos led Tojum from end to end of the village. They showed her Gwyneth’s market in the plaza, the inn and tavern, the well, glassmaker, bakery, outhouse, beekeeper, tannery, blacksmith…And last but not least, they stopped at the waterwheel.

 

     The wheel was a massive, creaky structure made of brass pipes and wood. It sat on the river’s edge among piles of lumber and scrap metal.

 

     “Ye really builds this yerself?” queried Tojum, craning her neck up towards the sky.

“Well, Olof helps me move the lumber from time to time,” replied Jeimos. “But yes, this has been my little project for the last few years. I just pick at it in my leisure hours.”

 

     “Amazings! Beautifuls! Jeimos so smarts, so talented,” the kobold whispered with wonder. She paused, then asked, “What it does?”

Jeimos sighed, “With any luck, _someday_ it’ll provide the village with clean, reliable electricity. It’s been a headache though, getting the blasted thing to work with such limited materials. The nymphs are so terribly picky about pollution this, industry that…”

 

     They shook their shaven head. “Flora can tell you more about that tomorrow. In the meantime your life here will be quite, shall we say, _simple_.”

 

*

 

     Evan heard a knock on his office door. Soft, insecure, barely audible.

 

     “Come in, Jeimos,” he called, pen still scratching against the parchment before him. The door opened just a crack. Two flame-orange eyes peeked through like cinders in the darkness. Cautiously Jeimos crept in and closed the door softly behind them.

 

     Birdsong twittered outside the office window to Jeimos’ right. The newborn day was still crisp and peaceful. Yet the red elf felt anything but as their sweaty, anxious hands tied their fingers in knots.

    

     “You wanted to speak with me?” they queried.

 

     Evan pushed his paper and quill aside, folding his hands on the desk. “Yes,” he began. “You told me yesterday that you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do in Umory-Ond. After all that trouble you lot went through, I imagine you must be quite disappointed.”

 

     Jeimos leaned forward and exclaimed, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Atlas! I-I didn’t mean to waste resources! It was very generous of you to pay for our flight, and then to come pick us up—on your own time, no less—after I bungled everything! I feel just terrible about it, I really do! I—”

 

     Evan waved his hand. “That’s not my concern,” he told them. “My concern is _you_ , Jeimos. I mean, will you be alright? After what you told me before you left, I…I’m worried about you, being alone in that dark tower of yours day after day...”

 

     Evan winced at his own confession, feeling just as uncomfortable as Jeimos looked as they squirmed in their seat.

 

     Jeimos replied after a brief hesitation, “I’m quite disappointed, yes. I lost all the gold I saved for this too, and I imagine it’ll take many years to save it up again.”

A wrinkle carved itself between Evan’s brows. “Based on what you’ve told me, that doesn’t seem acceptable.”

 

     “It isn’t,” admitted Jeimos, eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t know what to do. I really, truly, can’t imagine living this way any longer! My heart is _breaking_ , I tell you!”

 

     They swiped at their tears and sniffled on, “But if that wretched trip taught me anything, it was that I have the loveliest friends I could ever ask for. Looking back now, I can’t believe I ever kept secrets from any of you. Especially you, Mr. Atlas.”

 

     The ref elf picked their gaze up from their lap, looked into Evan’s. “When I was a filthy vagrant bumming around Viersen, you welcomed me into your circle and you never once gave up on me. Even when I was at my worst, you and the others have always accepted me for all my faults and shown me nothing but kindness.”

 

     Shaking their head, Jeimos sighed, “So, I feel I owe it to you to stop keeping these secrets. May I share the reason why I went to Umory-Ond in the first place?”

Evan leaned forward on his elbows. “Of course,” he said.

 

     Jeimos took a deep breath, tried to steady their hands as they spilled seventy years’ worth of feelings and experiences. Tears welled in their eyes when they described Damijani society, spilled down their face when they spoke of their mother’s descent into madness. They told Evan of their distant father, their lonely childhood, and the unjust loss of their beloved nanny, Felice.

 

     They told him of their strict arcane schooling and the way it crushed their soul, when the one class of magic they had true passion for was the one most forbidden to them.

 

     “I never wanted to be a walking torch or zip through time and space,” they admitted. “I only wanted to shape myself into the form I feel inside. When I was a child, I thought I would grow into an elf like my father. That’s simply the image I had of myself.”

 

     They shook their head. “Imagine my dismay a decade later, when an elfenne stared back at me in the mirror! I thought I would come to accept it in time,” they sighed.

 

     “But here I am over five decades later, still suffering the same horrible disconnect I felt then. If anything, it’s only gotten worse as I watch the years pass by, all while I’m failing to live them the way I know I should be.”

 

     Evan rested his chin on his clasped hands, brow furrowed as if in deep thought. After a long silence, Jeimos looked up at him and said, “You must think I’m an absolute lunatic, hearing all this. I-I’m sorry, Mr. Atlas—”

“No, no, it's not that,” he assured them, dropping his hands. “I admit, I’ve never heard of a condition quite like yours, and I don’t claim to understand what you’re going through. But something you said struck a chord with me. It made me think back to my own childhood.”

 

     He leaned back in his seat and explained, “I used to be a sickly one, as you know. And what you said about that disconnect between who you are on the outside, versus the inside…”

 

     He tapped his fingers against his chest. “I felt that too, very much so. Just like you, I thought I would grow into a man like my father. He was the biggest, strongest man I knew. There was no one he couldn’t fight and nothing he couldn’t do.”

 

     Evan smiled, but it quickly faded as he continued, “But as time went on, I realized more and more that it just wasn’t going to be. I was destined to get smaller and sicker until I faded away, and despite how hard I tried to accept that, I…I simply couldn’t. Obviously.” He gestured vaguely at himself, his massive lycanthrope body.

 

     “My point is,” he said, “I have no place to deny you what I, myself, desired. If this makes you a lunatic, then I must be one too.” His smile returned, soft and mild as he rested his elbows on the desk. “Tell me, how much does this procedure cost?”

 

     Jeimos thought for a moment, then answered, “Well, a _professional_ transmutationist charges around ten thousand GP. My little kobold friend said she’d do it for only two thousand, and I suppose desperation clouded my judgment. I should have known it was a scam! The amulet she used looked legitimate—and it was. But it was stolen from the arcane college. Probably some aspiring wizard’s graduation project…”

 

     They crossed their arms, continued, “I can’t hold it against her. She was just as desperate as I was for the very same thing. I hope one day we both get what we want, but it shall be a long, long, time from now—if it happens at all. I feel like such an idiot. Perhaps I should try harder to accept this miserable body, or else throw myself off the tip of Frostbite Crag…”

 

     “Don’t even say that,” Evan told them. He opened a drawer on his desk and began fishing through loose papers. He pulled up a sheet with rows of numbers scrawled on it, examined it for a moment before he said, “You know, I always take a little out of everyone’s pay for a medical fund. This way when someone breaks a bone or gets sick on the job, they can afford to miss a few jobs while they recover.”

 

     He lowered the paper and looked back at Jeimos. “You’ve paid into this fund as much as anyone else. I can see that you’re in such pain that it’s affecting your performance in my company, and I don’t feel I can afford to lose someone as valuable as you.”

 

     Setting the paper down, Evan folded his hands over top of it and finished, “It may take me a couple weeks to work out the details, but I would like to cover for this procedure of yours in full.”

 

     The red elf’s eyes rounded like coins, a puff of black smoke bursting from their mouth when they cried, “ _What_?”

“Now calm down, there’s a lot of paper in here,” Evan chuckled nervously.

“Mr. Atlas, it’s so terribly _expensive_! I’d hate to drain the entire medical fund on my own. That seems so selfish!”

 

     “Jeimos,” Evan explained flatly, “alcohol-related incidents alone drain well over half of this fund. If I can get everyone to ease up on booze for a month or two, we’ll have plenty of gold for more important matters.”

 

     He grinned. “Such as your health and happiness. Besides, this isn’t about your value in gold. It’s about your value as a friend. You speak about us being there for you as if you haven’t done the same for us all these years. Let us help, will you?”

 

     Jeimos' blood seemed to be as magma, glowing bright beneath their skin. Tears spilled from their eyes, evaporating in puffs of vapor before they reached the elf’s chin. They tried to speak but only gibberish came out.

“Breathe, Jeimos,” Evan reminded them.

 

     Closing their eyes, Jeimos sucked in a deep breath. They let it out slow, the glow slowly fading from their skin as they did. The tiny streams of smoke stopped trailing from their nostrils.

 

     “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Atlas,” they sighed calmly. “Surely there must be some way I can repay you all?”

 

     “Sure,” said Evan. “You can repay us by being yourself. The person you are inside, I mean.”

Briefly throwing their gloved hands over their face, Jeimos let out a muffled sob into their palms. Evan jumped, nearly tipped over in his chair as they suddenly leaped over the desk and trapped him in a hug.

 

     The captain patted their back and assured them, “You’re very welcome, friend. Now, I can keep this expense anonymous on the budget report, if you prefer. No one else has to know about any of this.”

 

     “No,” Jeimos sniffled, “they _should_ know. I’ve been living this horrible lie for far, far too long.” They stepped off the desk and headed for the door.

 

     Before they left, they told him, “You lot have shown me time and time again that I can trust you with anything. I’m only sorry it took so long for me to recognize it.”

 

 


	4. Epilogue

##  **[EPILOGUE]**

 

     Mercenaries filed into the dining hall just before sunset. The room was spacious with a very long table in the center. Fire crackled in the brick fireplace, casting everyone in a warm glow as they sat down for dinner.

 

     Chattering voices and clattering dishes echoed off the vaulted ceiling above. Alaine and Glenvar walked through the door carrying a covered dish. They set it near the center of the table and lifted the lid. When the steam cleared, the other mercenaries cheered for the giant baked catfish before them.

 

     “Caught ‘er just this mornin’!” announced Glenvar. “She snapped two of my lines before Allie jumped out and wrestled ‘er into the boat!”

 

     Isaac wrinkled his nose and whispered, “I hate catfish.” He turned to Evan, sitting at the head of the table beside him. “Do I have to eat it?”

 

     “Be polite, Isaac,” Evan whispered back. The boy sighed and accepted the plate of fish that was passed to him. But that was hardly the only dish to go around, for everyone brought what they could for community dinners.

 

     Tojum sat beside Jeimos, fork and spoon clutched tightly in each hand. She stared at the bounty before her, drool oozing from her big, gaping smile.

 

     Balthazaar and his wife Feredil arrived with a two-layered chocolate cake. Javaan walked in with a giant pot of mashed potatoes on his shoulder, hooves clomping heavy against the wooden floor as he carried it to the table.

 

     Skel and Linde dragged themselves to dinner empty-handed, still exhausted from the night before.

 

     “Sorry, guys,” Linde apologized. “We’ll bring extra next time.”

Balthazaar sat beside her and said, “Don’t worry about it. Just tell us about the Seelie Court! Did you meet any of your relatives there?”

Linde swiped at her neck, letting out an anxious chuckle. “Yeah,” she began, “about that…”

 

     Tojum shoveled through several dishes at once, utensils stabbing madly at anything she could reach.

 

     “Tojum, wait,” said Jeimos. The kobold froze mid-bite while Jeimos unfolded a cloth napkin and tucked it into the neckline of her blue dress.

“I’d hate to see you ruin your new dress,” Jeimos smiled.

 

     Tojum smiled too. She began eating much slower then, pausing for a moment before she said, “Um, Tojum sorry abouts ruining yer clothes. And hairs. And _very_ sorry abouts stupid tattoo. Tojum spents all yer gold on fancy wines and gets much, much, much too drunk…”

 

     “It’s alright,” sighed Jeimos. “I can get new clothes and my hair will grow back. As for the tattoo, I actually managed to melt it off with my own flames. Thank the stars for that cheap ink…”

 

     “Still sorry abouts gold,” Tojum muttered. “Now ye’ll never affords new body and neither will Tojum. Tojum makes big mess of everything.”

 

     “Actually—” Jeimos began, but they were interrupted by Evan as he stood up and clinked a fork against his stein.

When the chatter quieted, he said, “Everyone, I have an important announcement!”

 

     Pulling a paper from his pocket, he held it up high and went on, “I was looking over our budget today. Frankly, I didn’t like what I saw. As you know, we all pay into a medical fund. This fund gets us through the hard times when we become injured.” Evan dropped the paper on the table, his scrutinizing gaze sweeping his crew.

 

     “However,” he continued, “I was reviewing incident reports from the last few years, only to find that _seventy-six percent_ of those incidents involved alcohol.”

 

     A round of murmurs and snickers swelled at the table. Evan raised his hand to silence them, expression stony when he added, “It isn’t funny. This is an _embarrassing_ display of irresponsibility, and I won’t have it on my crew any longer! How would one of you feel if you needed an ailing tooth pulled, only to learn your fellow crewman drained the fund getting drunk and trying to back-flip off his roof?”

 

     Glenvar leaned in close to Alaine and whispered, “I did that once…”

Evan spoke on, “From now on, we all need to be more responsible about our vices and how we treat our bodies. Because not only is it a foolish waste of resources, but as we speak, we have someone on our crew who is in desperate need of an expensive medical procedure.”

 

     The murmurs swelled again, mercenaries’ eyes shifting towards one another. Jeimos’ gaze fixated on their quivering hands, clasped tightly before them on the table.

 

     “Well, who is it?” blurted Alaine.

Evan sat down again and replied, “It’s not my place to say. If they want to share the situation with you, that’s up to them.”

 

     “I-I do,” stammered Jeimos. Everyone’s gaze shot towards them as they suddenly stood up, nearly knocking their glass over as they did.

 

     They carefully steadied it, then announced, “I’ve been hiding this for a very long time. But I feel I owe you chaps my honesty, because you are my dearest friends and…” They paused, swallowing the quiver in their voice. “And you’re my family too.”

 

     A round of aww’s circled the table, then Alaine called from the opposite end, “Just tell us what you need, Jay! We’ll make it happen! We always come through, right?” she smiled and batted her blue lashes at the crew, who raised their steins and loudly agreed.

“Not _always_ ,” Lukas grumbled, pouring more gravy on his potatoes.

 

     The hint of a smile crept onto Jeimos’ face. The red elf said, “Thank you so much, everyone. Though you may not feel the same when I tell you what this procedure _is_. You might think I’m crazy, or think it ridiculous, or—”

“Out with it, Red! Yer killin’ me here!” barked Glenvar.

 

     “Alright!” Jeimos shook their hands out before them as if to shake the anxiety from their fingertips. They explained, “It’s a magical transmutation procedure, to change my elfenne body into an elf body. Then my outer self will finally match my inner self.”

 

     They paused, twisting their long sleeve between their hands. “B-but it is quite expensive—ten thousand gold pieces, at least. I squandered all my money in Umory-Ond like a fool, so Mr. Atlas has kindly offered to help me pay for it with our medical fund. Is…Is that alright with everyone?”

 

     Their eyes darted around to their fellow crewmen, staring back at them with a variety of expressions.

 

     After a silence that felt like an eternity, Lukas pulled three gold coins from his pocket and slid them towards Jeimos without a word. Feredil reached into her purse and did the same, adding five coins to the stack.

 

     Glenvar grinned at the red elf as he tossed one silver coin across the table, said, “I wish ya told me sooner! Already blew my wages on cigars ‘n wenches!”

 

     Jeimos let themselves collapse back into their seat, hiding their sobs behind their hands as one by one, their cohorts offered whatever gold they could. All but Skel, who remained in his seat and quietly chewed through his meal.

 

     Tojum, too, had no gold to give. Instead, she picked a drumstick off her plate and placed it on Jeimos’, then offered a smile.

 

     Jeimos wiped their tears away and smiled back.

 

*

 

     Dinner ended as the autumn sun disappeared below the horizon, shrouding the compound in darkness. Lukas, Isaac, and Elska stayed to clean up the mess, for it was their turn to do so. There wasn’t a crumb of food left behind. There never was—not between ten hungry mercenaries and an insatiable lycanthrope.

 

     Evan walked home alone that night, singing a quiet tune as he meandered down the trail. His little stone house awaited him just a few minutes away. He sensed wild nymphs scrutinizing him from the forest, their glowing eyes easily mistaken for fireflies. But they enjoyed his pleasant song, so they swooned in his wake rather than stealing him away into the wilderness.

 

     Then he heard sandals quickly flopping down the trail behind him. He turned, saw Skel rushing after him. “Atlas!” the goblin called, panting when he stopped before him. Evan planted his hands on his hips, waited for Skel to catch his breath.

 

     “Listen,” Skel told him, “about that thing with Jeimos…”

“Yes?”

The goblin reached into his pocket and pulled out a bulging burlap sack. He dropped it into Evan’s hand and said, “I want to make a donation. It’s about two thousand GP, give or take.”

 

     Evan’s brows shot up. He peeked in the bag and saw it for himself—a pile of gleaming platinum coins.

 

     “My word, Skel!” he exclaimed. “That’s quite generous of you! Are you sure?”

Skel closed his eyes tightly, waved as if swatting a fly. “Don’t make me regret it! Just take it away before I change my mind.”

 

     The captain nodded. He tucked the sack into his satchel and said, “Thank you, Skel. This is very kind and…I must admit, rather uncharacteristic of you. I’ll be sure to tell Jeimos about this tomorrow.”

 

     “No, you won’t!” Skel told him, pointing a green finger in his face. “You’ll tell _no one_ about this. This donation is anonymous, understand?”

 

     Raising his palms in surrender, Evan replied slowly, “If that’s really what you want…” He paused, then added, “You really care for them, don’t you?”

 

     Skel scrubbed at his head and let out a heavy sigh. The answer he wanted to give could not pass his fae lips, so he said nothing. He and the captain shared a look of silent understanding, then they parted ways for the night.

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you noticed any mistakes please let me know. I'm always trying to improve my writing, so any feedback is appreciated. :)


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